St. Hubert, the fluffiest cat I've ever lived with, had an unpleasant smell
about him. Lifting up his tail, I didn't see anything suspicious, so like
a
person with human offspring, I picked him up, and cautiously, not getting
too close, I sniffed his backside as though I were checking a diaper.
Yep.
Smelled like poo.
Turns out he had a camouflaged dingleberry. Squire held him butt-side up
after I'd put gloves on (being a nurse I have them in my pockets all the
time) and I washed his little bottom and britches. Poor cat.
At least I've only had to do this once in the 10 months I've known him.
Cristabel.
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