I don’t do visceral, I am a clean living feline. I was once being observed by the feline opposite, but I stayed cool and calm. He moved away a few years ago and I did not wave goodbye, was glad to see him go. There is nothing worse than enjoying a sleep and being watched by another feeline.
If the word had been “hairball” I could have written a whole book on the subject, although visceral is perhaps a connection to the production of a hairball. First of all have a good wash from top to bottom and then you have collected enough fur remains to begin the furball production. Some might refer to this as the beginning of a visceral friendship. Humans find it disgusting, but they have no hairball appreciation. When the hairball is formed in the inner organs it is quite easy. You have spent so much time on its perfect form and colour and there is no point in keeping its secrets to yourself, so let it out I meow. For those with squeamish feelings, my apologies, but so is the feline life.
This is when the viscerous part occurs, the final fabrication to show everyone its perfect formation. I always kept my favourite hairballs, but Mrs. Human said something like “disgusting” and threw them away. I could not understand this, it was a complicated process involving hard work and exhausting actions and she disposed of them, my pride and joy. Humans are strange, they keep their visceral side of life to themselves.