A Birthday Fix

Today is my lovely bride's birthday.  Happy birthday Jill!

It's also the day our girl kitty (Elsie Elise Marie Oreo Sassafras Foster Kitty Smith) gets "fixed".  Meaning that she will never have good memories of Jill's birthday.  Every year on this date, when all of us are celebrating, Elsie will likely pout and remind us that this was the day we made her not have kittens ever.  One year, on my birthday, my cousin Graham broke his arm.  Totally ruined my birthday (and likely wasn't a party for him).  So I can sympathize with Elsie.  Heck, I got fixed a few years ago, but not on someone's birthday.

As an enormously interesting side note, my doctor was Richard Chopp.  Yes, Dr. Dick Chopp.  His associate was Dr. Hardeman.  Google it if you don't believe me.  [not my specific procedure, as I pray there is no digital record of that, but of the name of my doctor].

Turns out, it's really the boy kitty who needs fixing.  Not in the, well, kitty-making way, though.  Leo is what we call a "cat and a half."  He likes to purr, lick, nibble, and sit on people's faces in the middle of the night. You can toss him off the bed, but he jumps back up as if to say "sorry, I must have fallen off the bed.  Where was I? Oh yes, I was licking your neck with my sandpaper tongue.  Let me pick up where I left off." He also is an eating machine.  We anticipate years of waking up to a big, fat, happy cat on our faces.  So, there's nothing technically "broken" about him, but perhaps some type of tweak is in order.  How does one train a cat?