Ailment for a feline dilemma

Being a cleanly cat has its drawbacks. For instance, this morning I awoke to a whisker-twisting funk emanating from my (rather cute) behind. So what do I do? I clean myself of course, impressively bending and stretching to remove all traces of funk from my furr. Methodically I remove all tangles, dirt and, uh other stow-aways from my body with the scouring-tongue procedure innate to we cats. The funk resides and I stretch out to capture sleep lost.

Unfortunately, I wish I could sleep after a good bath, but the truth is much more dramatic, traumatic, cinematic, acrobatic...whatever...the point is that much excess fur sticks to my tongue...and journeys into my throat. If you haven't coughed up 'wads of hell' (a number one cause of feline injury and death next to cars) before, then you just can't imagine the pain, agony, and life-threatening sensation that swallowed fur can cause. It's worse when the ball conglomerate gets so big that it tickles the throat on the way out, not only resulting in incessant gagging, but also laughter, which induces pain beyond your bald minds.

Here's a hint for you cats suffering from bathing side effects: Lick and clean with the fur-grain, not against it; drink lots of liquids (milk aids with indigestion); and lastly gag with your head between your front legs -- gravity helps. Chow (another word misconstrued by humans actually meaning 'good luck.' And the chow dogs are all but lucky -- floofy fur and no way to clean it on their own. Recipe : dog-on-stinky if you ask me).