Last night I may have traumatized my cat for life.
First: I'm blind as a bat. And at night, I may as well be wearing a blindfold. If I need to get up to pee, I kind of feel my way with my bare feet and outstretched hands.
Anyway, I'd gone into the bathroom, and Eddie, as is his wont, was laying on the bathmat. We exchanged greetings. He's a talker.
When I finished and headed back to bed, he came with me. I stepped carefully and if I looked closely could see his darker shadow - he's black - stalking ahead of me.
At the side of the bed, he paused right in front of me.
I wanted to climb back in, and knowing that he's getting on in years and his former leap onto the bed now involves some claws and scrabbling, I bent over to pick him up, grabbing him front and back.
When I grabbed the back end, I felt something sort of cylindrical and a bit dry. Being an experienced cat owner I assumed a poop hadn't quite made it out the chute into the litter box.
And again, being an experienced cat owner, I tried to remove it - I could go back and wash my hands again, and with both horses and cats I am intimately familiar with animal poop.
I grabbed it, wiggled it, bent it. It seemed stuck. I flipped him over as I walked back towards the bathroom, intending to turn the light on to see what was going on.
Just before I switched the light on and at this point my eyes having somewhat adjusted to the dark to be able to see a bit, I looked down to see a little pink cat penis, now released, retreating back into its sheath.
And a very confused - though perhaps smug - cat looking up at me.
I apologized profusely, washed my hands really well, and we both went back to bed.
No comments:
Post a Comment