Look of Bliss.
Pooping is a little easier for him, but when he tries to get up to walk away from the Poop while meowing to alert us that he has gone to the bathroom, he usually falls over on to the still warm, mushy feces and smears it all over himself.
So, then come the baths.
When Travis gives him a bath, Tumble cries like it is the worst thing in the world. He gets all the dogs barking in the apartment building with this cry, and it comes with scratching and clawing and half-drowning.
Worst. Ordeal. Ever.
When I give him a bath, he purrs, and lets me scrub him good and will just sit there and relax in the nice, warm water.
Daily Spa Visit.
Travis and I try to figure out why he is so different with us during his bath time, but I figure, since Tumble loves Travis more most other times, I am content with the little bit of happiness and love my cat gives me. And I really don't want to think that it's because Tumble loves Travis SO much that he thinks it's terrible that Dad has to do this Chore, and he expects me to be the one to "give him baths" and other terrible things like "flea treatments" and "clipping his nails". I really am a slave to my cat. It's kinda pathetic.