One more note for the testosterone files: The family cat, who used to be indifferent at best, now can’t get enough of Transman. Since he’s always been the cat’s personal chef, her newfound affection is not just because he’s the one who feeds her. Transman is convinced that the testosterone has given him a scent that is on the cat’s good aromas scale somewhere between “savory fixin’s” and “catnip”* because she sits on him, sleeps on him, follows him into the bathroom (creepy stalking voyeuristic feline) and purs. All. The. Damn. Time. Her motor is broken and stuck in Loud Purr mode.
Now just look at us:
* Transman is glad he does not have a dog that goes wild for his smell since dogs are known for rolling in what other animals have the decency to bury (or flush, if they are human animals).