Standing Firm

Periodically, Neville needs his bum cleaned. He doesn’t require it as often as he has in the recent past, thanks, I believe, to the better management of his diabetes giving his rear end a bit more strength: he is not sitting or falling into debris in the litter-box as much. When I do clean him, I take him to the Treatment Room (the bathroom) and, on a soaker pad, go to work with washcloth, comb and scissors. It not infrequently takes fifteen or twenty minutes. Afterwards, I give him a reward for his good behaviour (more wished for than realised sometimes) in the form of Temptation treats.

Yesterday, I carried him to the Treatment Room to find that my initial examination was misleading, and he required only a few seconds’ worth of repair. Yet he still demanded a reward for his perseverance. I was firm, since he had needed almost no work, and it was hardly the usual inconvenience for him. He too stood his ground and made croaking sounds. I said, “No!”

At last, we compromised and I gave him treats. But only three or four.