Thanks to Maggie the kitten, I have learned a new euphemism: "sanitary clip."
I have never had a long-haired cat before, and the kitten is definitely of that variety. In fact, her tail and haunches are so relentlessly, enthusiastically fluffy, I have taken to calling her "Little Miss Sparklepants." I'm not sure why, but it seemed to fit.
Unfortunately, the other night she had a litterbox issue that changed her name to "Little Miss Stinkypants" (and perhaps you can use your imagination to fill in another word that begins with S and combines easily with "-pants").
I attempted to handle this matter myself, but I needed at least two more hands to get the job done via washrag and scissors. It didn't help that Maggie thought the whole ordeal was a delightful game and reacted by clawing and biting my hands in a playful manner.
She's cleaned up now, but she also goes to the groomer tomorrow for a (ahem) sanitary clip.
Meanwhile, I keep thinking of existential Henri, Le Chat Noir. If you don't already know of him, you probably should remedy that.
A certain delicate maintenance, indeed.