My beloved cat Furball loved to masturbate on my pillows, which I didn’t like this since he would ejaculate a couple drops of semen on my pillow case. Every time I caught him jerking off I’d spray some water on him and he’d run away mid-jerk only to come back later and to attempt to finish himself off, whereby the process would repeat. For a stretch of time I must have given him the most horrible case of blue balls ever experienced by a feline. But then I thought about it. If I was masturbating, would I want someone throwing cold water on me? No. That would be cruel.
After that I let him jerk off whenever and wherever he pleased. Who am I to tell another animal how to live its life? He wasn’t telling me how to live mine, and he didn’t even ask to live with me. In fact he was taken from his mother as a baby and bought on the open market like a slave, and I expected him to serve me and make my life better. And I got mad when he wanted to blow a load off! I was the unevolved beast, not him.
I loved him.
