Today I noticed that Gizmo's nails were getting a bit long, so I went through the ordeal of trimming them.
He sat there and growled and grumbled and bitched while I did the first three feet; he was complaining and letting me know he didn't like it, but wasn't putting up too much of a fight (a great improvement over the usual hysterics that I get when I try to trim his nails).
So far, so good, only one foot left to go. Gizmo responded to me reaching for it by stuffing that hindpaw in his mouth, biting down on it so I couldn't pull it out, and refusing to let go. I figured I'd just out-wait him on it.
Half an hour later, he was still sitting there with his foot in his mouth, eyeing me.
I knew that if I let him win, I'd get the foot-in-the-mouth treatment every time I went to clip his nails, so I had to come up with something. Finally, it dawned on me, and I grabbed his precious Glow Ball.
Gizmo's Glow-Ball is currently one of his favorite toys. He starting making upset little high-pitched whines when I grabbed it, but kept his foot in his mouth. I started to toss it up and down very slowly. He watched, his whining going up in intensity.
It became too much for him when I put it in my coat pocket. I was going to steal it. He let out a high-pitched wail and threw himself into my lap, and started frantically digging at my pocket.
While he was busy with that, I grabbed the hindpaw, held it steady, and clipped the last few nails.