We're back from the vet.
Apparently Tiggie's "sit upon" (as we discreetly refer to it here in the Deep South) was inflamed from contact with the poo, which apparently got caught in his fur somehow during one of his sessions in the litter box.
Tiggie's vet, Dr. Mueller is always a delight to see. He is from Louisiana, and always has a funny story to share. One time he gave me a prescription for one of our cats, with the warning that it was a very bitter pill. I wondered how he knew, but before I could asked, he owned that he himself had used that very medication once upon a time, and was speaking from personal experience.
He assured us that orange cats are strange critters, and that he has owned about 30 of them in his life, along with other kinds of cats as well. As Bernie said later, I guess he goes through cats pretty fast if he's our age and has had 30 orange cats so far. Dr. M. said he used to have an orange cat that would let you pet him for an exact amount of time, and then would chomp. He enjoyed petting his orange tom, and encouraging his guy buddies to come on over and hold the cat and pet him, all the while checking his watch for just the right moment, knowing the eventual outcome. CHOMP. Fun cat, that.
Anyway, Tiggie's butt got shaved and the vet said there was no extra charge for that service.
I'll spare you pictures on that.
I'm sure you won't mind.