Today, I shall be being indelicate. Click elsewhere if you are faint-hearted.
Cojones (s. cojón [koˈxon]) : here in England, it sounds so much better than the world ‘balls’. It is not quite the curse it is in Spanish; when you hear it here – usually after a few pints – it denotes great masculine courage. It derives, prosaically, from the word coleonem, a Roman word for testicles which in turn is derived from cōleus: aleather bag for liquids.
I never owned a cat as a child. My dog would not have countenanced it. My first cat was a girl, albeit a tortoiseshell who was held together with rage for 18 long years and then, as some of you will recall, I got a black cat.
Any photographer will tell you that black cats are just a black blob. It is notoriously difficult to photograph a black cat because it’s all one to them. Detail is swallowed up by the black and your only hope of getting definition is to get the gleam of daylight on that glossy black coat. Clive’s cojones were artlessly camouflaged.
So it has taken until now, when I am in my mid 40s, to be frankly astounded by the size of a cat’s cojones.
My pretty siamese-ginger longshanks of a kitten is growing fast. He has not yet grown into his ears, which are huge. And with the frank astonishment born of a convent school education, I must own he also has momentous cojones.
“Do all cats have those?” I asked ingenuously of my husband. He nodded sagely.
“But why didn’t we notice them with Clive Bond?”
“He was black.”
We both contemplate the tiny lithe streak of ginger trying the feather-down-duvet for nest-worthiness. He’s still little, but it won’t be long before he hears the call of the wild and begins to seek out practical uses for his cojones.
We have an appointment. Of course we do. The days of Monty’s cojones are numbered, if only because we wish to spare his sister. In a few weeks, he will trundle off to the vets for a pre-op appointment with Frankie, our friendly neighbourhood cojones-remover.
But for a short time at least, Monty will appear the most courageous and masculine cat for – well – positively miles around.
In the mean time, I have supplemented my sparse education on the subject with this:
43 thoughts on “The Cat’s Cojones”
My first language is Spanish and when you say you have cojones it denotes masculinity as to say you have balls ….lol
Thanks for that, Karmami! So it is just the same in Spanish as in English!
Creo que si …lol
At least you will be removing the cojones!
I know. Feeling bad about that right now,
They get into fights if one does not remove the cojones. They can hurt each other quite badly. If one waits too long, they don’t realize that the cojones are gone and get into fights anyway. Good luck – gingers are wonderful cats.
The Cat’s Bollocks doesn’t sound as impressive as the Dog’s, but Monty seems to be bucking the trend…although his bucking time is limited 🙂
I know. The clock is ticking…
Monty certainly is well endowed. It’s a shame he has to have an appointment, but in the long run, he’ll be happier. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway, although from cat people, never from a cat.
It is possible cats will have a different take, but taking all into account, the snip can only mean fancy freedom in the long run…
Poor unsuspecting Monty
Perhaps they show up as rather large because his rear is, well small, but nevertheless, poor Monty.
We had a cat when I was young that still had his cojones and every night he was out on the prowl, returning with torn ears and scratched face. My parents decided that if he was to survive his cojones would have to go – rather cruel I suspect. When he returned from the vet he went out at night as usual, gave his usually howl, and returned immediately, never to leave in the dark again.
Oh, a plaintive story, Rosemary…..what a sad moment for the cat in question.
If you rate size and organ as a per cent of total body size, roaches have the largest genitals of any species. On the other hand the fact that the Republican Party of USA cannot divest itself of the influence of the Tea Party and Christian Right loonies shows they have no cojones at all.
Gosh Carl, you are always full of facts! 🙂
Fantastic. Who would have thought it. Why would nature gift them in such a way??
Ahahahahaha…must follow Carl ^….but I digress. We were not allowed to take Dylan and Bagheera from the shelter until they were ‘un-cojonied’; just visited a friend with two young cats who have yet to undergo to knife- and, well- most impressive. Best wishes to dear Monty and many thanks for a Sunday morning delight.
My pleasure 🙂 It does cause one to double take. Still, a 15-week wonder in most modern cats, and probably just as well.
This was hysterical! My poor Jake was deballed 15 years ago and only carries a sack around these days. It’s a nice sack though but I can’t remember how big his were. My newest kitty (just over a year) has ears and legs she hasn’t grown into yet. I swear she will be the first cat pro basketball player around!
Ah, she and Monty will be on the same team 😀 I look forward to seeing some pictures, as she grows…
The cojones on our cats have always disappeared before I took note. All caught up now. Thanks, Kate.
Glad to have provided that briefing, Nancy 😀
Leave it to Kate (and Monty’s cajones) to pull me away from my board-recertification studies. But who could pass such a title by? Best of luck to Monty and his, er, procedure…
Many thanks, and apologies for interrupting – hope all is going well!
Haha! Love the slide show. When my grandmother’s big grey and white cat Tommy came home from his appointment (delayed well past the time it should have been) she mourned his loss by saying, “Oh, poor Tommy. His fuzzy little balls were so cute.” That really says it all.
😀 Belly laughs over here as I read that out loud, Elizabeth. What a fabulous story.
Rover says he’ll never miss them. But then Rover never misses anything 🙂
A forward looking soul, that Blofeld of yours. No regrets. Only opportunities.
You put it so much more genteely that I did here, http://wp.me/pMKim-we, at least until we got to the slide show. Then I think my discretion was the greater!
I am pleased soemone else has reached their prime in full ignorance of male cats’ sexual organs. I don’t think I ever saw Cat’s penis, and MasterB has far few erections these days. Mind you, the moment I say that it is usually a cue for a full frontal display on the carpet.
*Broad grin* One cannot own a tomcat and be a prude, can one? 😀
Pursing lips and looking prim: one tries, Kate, one tries.
It has only recently occurred to me that the students who found MasterB and believed they had coated his owner had probably found the wrong man. Because my boy was still a baby, a long way short f the three year old they believed him to be.
Oh, this was so funny! Our orange tabby was neutered late in life (long story but suffice to say he was not originally our cat). For years I was convinced that somehow the vets had managed to not fully remove his … cojones … because the sacs were still just as large as they were before 😉 Glad to hear that Monty does have an appt. Our Mikey was always getting into fights before the snip-snip. Afterwards, he became the sweetest cat I’ve ever known.
Glad Monty’s appointment is soon. We once waited too long and all the chemicals in the world could not rid us of the urine stench where that cat sprayed.
Well, that took my mind away from the ghost, the cottage and Macauley.
You kill me. I love it.
A question for you. Or, maybe for Phil.
What if someone fixed you before you could ever experience the joys, the mysteries, the release of……well…….you know??
Monty does indeed have impressive nuts. It’s too bad he that has to go under the knife, but from what my fellow commenters have to say about it, it seems to be a good idea since he will essentially be a house cat and not a wanderer like his predecessor … I hope. Maybe when his big balls are snipped his big ears will decrease in size?
This is just hysterical. You’ve given me an awfully big laugh tonight, Kate. As it turns out, our male cats lost their cojones so early on. Now I feel so sorry that I didn’t give them a little time to relish their glory!
When we adopted Ernest, the foster folks told us he’d been traumatized because the vet had had him on the operating table to spay him when she realized he was really a neutered male. We agreed that could be traumatic. A month later, he became ill and spent a weekend in our vet’s clinic. Releasing him, the assistant read from his records, “Six months old, intact male.” I said, No, a neutered male. She took him out of the carrier and turned him belly up. Oops. He hadn’t looked like that when I brought him in. Two weeks later, he went back for his appointment.
Cojones aside, all three of our cats seem to find great pleasure jumping in my lap with tail up in the air to show off their rear sphincter…why I have no idea but all three seem to be quit proud to stick their sphincter in my face. For the two boys, this may have something to do with their cojones being absent. Why Tiger Lily does this I don’t know. I prefer to be licked in the face by my dogs Becky and Maggie.
You didn’t try a test tickle? No, he would probably come up to scratch!
Those are really modest by comparison with a recent rear view we had of an elephant, which filled young J with wonder and admiration and elicited remarks about his ‘big privates’..
I didn’t know about the origin of the word <em<cojones, but it’s certainly logical. The origin of testicles is equally interesting. Testis is Latin for ‘witness’, who had to be an upright man (presumably in more ways than one) if he was to testify in a court of law. The testiculus (‘little witness’) was testament to his being virile, a man, and proof that he could bear witness in court. I don’t know if words like tête are related (Latin testa means the hard coating for a plant seed) but the images arising from that certainly mess with your head.
Anyway, I don’t think there will be any toms around who would care to be Monty’s double in the coming days. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0051759/?ref_=nv_sr_1