Benjamin Peter is my eldest son. Just over one year old and quite a good boy. He’s very loving and affectionate with his two moms, he has impeccable hygiene for a boy, and he likes to style his hair every morning. Benji will climb into the bathroom sink and hold his head under the trickle of water. When his head is adequately wet he uses his paws to spike the hair.
Like males of any species, Benji’s most prized possession is his junk. He likes to walk in front of you and of course, turn around so you can get a nice, un-hindered view. It must get very dirty because several times a day he must clean his junk. Benji must have the cleanest junk on our block.
This Friday last, after much deliberation and finally the decision based on what’s good for my dear son, we had Benjamin neutered. It broke my heart to take away his manhood. Would he be the same Benji? Will he still love his girlfriend Tinkerbell? Will he be resentful toward his moms? Sheena and I weighed these things carefully. It was time. We talked to him every night and explained the procedure. We readied his kennel with his favorite Lion King blanket.
That morning Sheena kissed him and placed him in his kennel. He was being very brave. Lillian and I loaded him in the car and down the road we went. The office was decent and clean. The man behind the desk was very warm and friendly and obviously loved animals. I felt better already. We filled out the paperwork and I knew this was a place that I could leave my son for surgery. I was fine until he took Benji to the back and we walked out the door. We got into the car and I lost it. Uncontrollable tears fell into my lap. What if he thought we left him there? What if he’s scared? What if he thinks we don’t love him anymore?
I would have to wait 7 hours to see him again and comfort him. Lillian tried to make me feel better. “Are you crying? It’s ok. Benji will be ok.” I felt silly that a 5 year old was telling me it will be ok. I sucked it up and stopped crying.
For the next several hours I kept busy. I went shopping with my sister for Sheena’s shampoo. I wrote. I cleaned the house. I deep and detail cleaned the bathroom. That wasn’t enough so I shampooed the carpets. Benji may be in pain and uncomfortable when he gets out, but he would come home to a spotless house.
It was 3:00. Time to go pick up my son. I cleaned the litter box one more time and we left. It was hot outside. They brought his kennel out to me and they said he did really well. The girl gave me some post-op instructions and I asked if he would need a cone. She said, “Only if he’s licking.” I told her that Benji is definitely a licker of his junk and I bought a cone. The ride home was long and hot, but Benji was relaxed and calm. He didn’t seem at all traumatized or resentful about the experience.
When we brought him home he was famished. The instructions said not to feed him dry food until the next day. But Benji didn’t want wet food. Ick. None of our cats enjoy canned food. A shared can of tuna is an occasional treat, but NO wet cat food. He was appalled at the suggestion. He also did not want his food in moderation. This boy was starved. He devoured his Royal Canin with delight. After eating he started to lick what was left of his junk. I tried to stop him, but he kept licking. So out came the new plastic cone. We placed it on him and he flipped about for a bit like an upstream salmon, then he flopped over on his side and looked as though he’d lost all will to live. He also discovered that eating was not as simple as before. Possible, but not simple. I took off the cone when I realized he couldn’t drink water in that thing.
Three days later Benji is the same boy, thankfully. He’s a little more affectionate, no complaints there. He likes to snuggle under blankets now. And he’s constantly eating. I can’t wait until he puts on a little weight and turns into our fat and lazy tom cat.
Benji still styles his hair each day. And best of all, he is still proud of his junk. He keeps it clean and if you let him, he might just show it to you.
