|Actual tiny daffs.|
I still carry the scars of three futile attempts at cleaning a cat's bottom over the weekend. It turned out to be a two person task, one holding the cat upside down trying hard not to stress the poor beast whilst the other attempts to remove whatever the foreign material is that is bunging up it's rear and fouling it's fur. Of course fur actually flies and blood (of the human kind is spilt). The cat eventually wriggles away and escapes like the proverbial scalded/anally probed cat. Strangely enough the cat bears no grudges and returns home for attention and the heaps of food that usually follow. The human target remains on edge eyeing the cat, left with no other option than to simply nurse his wounds whist trying to calm the ongoing nervous spasms.