First he wants attention-lots of it. That isn't all that unusual, so it doesn't guarantee that a hairball is brewing, but there is no hairball that he doesn't go through this stage.
The bigger the hairball, the more demanding he is. This morning's hairball was small. He just wanted me to pet him and cried when I left. The big ones seem to come at night. That is when he will wake me up with purring, ramming my face, biting my nose. When he purrs, he trembles. Those days, I know for sure the hairball is coming. This could go on for an hour. It was a problem when I still worked.
With a bad hairball, he starts to cry, emphatically--and then, it is done. Today's hairball was mild, so he didn't cry. I am so glad. It tears my heart to pieces when I hear that cry.
After he expels the unwelcome pile for fur, it isn't over, yet. Next, he need comforting. I have to pet him and console him. He is relentless in his demands. The bad hairballs usually end up with him trembling in my arms, purring and purring. After about a half hour, he gets hungry, and it is over.
I always feel bad when one occurs, and I'm not home for him. That is one more reason that I had to retire.
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