Sam (aka shmuzz, aka pepsi, aka smismar, senor, rotisserie, etc.) loves to drink from the bathroom faucet. About five times a day. Well, he'd probably drink from the kitchen faucet too, but he’s not allowed. He comes in after my morning shower, and we spend ten minutes together. I fussle him, he rubs himself on the shelf below the mirror, and slowly, gradually, he works his way into the bowl of the sink and starts lapping the water around the drain hole. A few days ago, Saturday I think, he was in there while I was cleaning the bathroom, and I wasn’t letting him drink because I’d just sprayed cleaner all over the bowl. I rinsed it all with hot water and then – Sam jumped off and ran away. Considering it now, he must have gotten a splash of very hot water in his face, maybe even in his eye. He hasn’t drunk from the faucet since. I didn’t think too much of it until this morning, when I brought him into the bathroom, closed the door and tried to “acclimatise” him back to the faucet. H...