Every Saturday morning, when I return from the gym, most of the cats are in their Daytime Resting Locations. They request and receive their preferred petting - nose bump or belly rub or whatever.
However, Arthur the Old Man, has a different custom. He runs up to me, squawks happily (he does not meow), and trots off to the catbox. There he proceeds to demonstrate that his plumbing is still working just fine. He seems proud of this.
I don't know whether to be reassured by his continued good health or concerned about this vision of my own future
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