Felix's Manhood No More

Felix

When he began chasing Indy around the room, causing her to wag her tail peevishly, and give her not a moment's peace, something had to be done. To take the manhood out of a male is terrible thing to do at the best of times, but to see something nigh on rape occur in one's on garden was practically beyond limit. So the vet was phoned and the appointment made and kept. The wee groggy boy, the golden puffle as Thing 1 calls him, was placed back in my arms, all medicated and not in pain. He would have to be kept apart from Indy for a few days for him to recover. But Felix languished. I tempted him with lettuce and celery and parsnip and carrots, and his favorite dry food, all to no avail. He puttered about, in no seeming sign of pain, though I bet adjusting to the sudden decrease of hormones. He did not eat that night, nor the next morning, nor the next afternoon. He munched some straw. But poor thing! I began to vaguely think of calling the doctor, when another plan came to my mind. I introduced him again to Indy. To the unaccustomed eye, Felix was annoying and Indy annoyed. She still ran away from him and wagged her tail peevishly. But that night Felix started eating again. Maybe he finally grew too hungry. Maybe he grew territorial and wanted, like a younger brother, to make sure he got his fair share before it was gobbled by others. But I think otherwise. Though the poor thing nearly starved, I found it entirely sweet that affection can take the form of withdrawal symptoms even in the animal kingdom.