A recent email from Jonathan Ives:

Sorry to write you late at night, but I was woken up by my cat a half hour ago and had a wonderful bonding experience that I would love to share. He had been sprayed in the face by another skunk — it’s been three weeks since his last dose — and was now in my bedroom making my eyes water up. I go into action mode and run downstairs to take his cat door out of the window. Check. No escape for my new patient. Next step: a strange brew to take the pew out of mew. Soapy water, baking soda and hydrogen peroxide. I run back to my bedroom and strip off my clothes. I grab the skunk-colored cat and head to the bathroom and close the door. His eyes widen as I start the shower. He knows that water is unavoidable now as I open the shower door and lift him into my arms. He tries to escape but makes sure he doesn’t scratch. It seems to be a fair fight. He doesn’t resist as I wash the oil from his fur. A rough tongue is no match against the marvels of indoor plumbing. I think of the photos I have in old albums downstairs now. Pictures of me with my little sister sitting in a bath tub in the house just up the hill. Not more than a hundred yards from here, and less than thirty years from tonight I was bathed by another because I needed it, not because I wanted it.