There’s something odd about Trevor.
He loves watching me poop.
In fact, he regularly joins me.
No, we don’t have an outhouse with a Newfie Two Seater
He’s a cat and there are litter boxes in pretty much every bathroom.
He’s an odd creature. Mostly aloof unless wanting food, this time of human privacy, he considers a time for connection.
Hey man, having a poop eh? Mind if I join you?
He never waits for a response. He merely mounts his box and stares at me.
Directly.
It’s unnerving to have another creature staring at you as the turds slide out.
I feel a bit like I did as a twenty year old straight man at a gay bar - I couldn’t look away despite the awkwardness of the whole thing - he was comfortable with the eye contact. I was not.
Then?
He hopped down, threw his back leg in the air and started licking his arse.
Yeah, you’re on your own there dude. And do not get any ideas about ‘helping me keep things clean’.
Despite all of this, I’m grateful that there’s a creature on this earth who not only puts up with my shit, but is also happy to join me in the process.
Friends who experience poop together have a special bond indeed.
Who puts up with and joins you in your shit without judgement?