No Nuts, No Eggs, No Babies: No Problem

James is home from the hospital, with two red welts where his nuts used to be.
He hates me now. He won't let me pet him. He runs when I come near.
I knew he would be like this. He's a Leo, his pride is hurt and I have stolen his little man sac. He looks at me like I am a snarling German Shepherd.
But wait, what's his problem?
Bart, my other cat, is neutered. I had a hysterectomy, so I am neutered. Nobody in this house can reproduce, so what's the big deal?
James has it made.
He doesn't have to hunt for food, he lives in a temperature controlled house, he doesn't have to brave harsh elements, escape predators, dodge cars or eat dead birds.
He gets his nails clipped, I clean him with a warm, damp washcloth when he's dusty, he eats the most nutritionally balanced kitty food available, and drinks spring water.
He sleeps in a bed, he has more toys than any kitten I know and even has his own little photo album. In his bedroom, I have a seascape and some framed paintings of little cats hung about a foot off the floor for his aesthetic enjoyment.
That spoiled little bastard.
I am going to go buy some generic kitty litter, serve him Alley Cat brand cat food and tap water and see how he likes roughing it.
And he can just forget about ice cubes in his water dish until he starts being nice to me again.