A Perfect Martyr

I had to cut Mosey's toenails tonight.  I was getting scratched every time he jumped on my lap for a snuggle.  It used to be that he would go berserk when it was time for this hygienic tradition.  Lately he has been a lot better but I have still had to hold him tightly.  This time though, he rolled out of my arms onto his back on the floor where he laid quietly and resignedly while I did all of his toenails.  He was just like a little child who won't look at the needle when it is time for a shot.