Ow.
I've been reading Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson's The Nine Emotional Lives of Cats and he has a section where he talks about self absorption in cats. They aren't, he argues, conceited but, rather, they aren't so domesticated that they've forgotten how solitary they are. Cats aren't pack creatures like dogs and, in the wild, are completely solitary animals who have only themselves to rely upon. Which translates in a domesticated situation to being aware of their surrounding environment only insofar as it pertains directly to them. If your cat craps on the floor and you find it later and try to discipline him for it, he will not understand why you are angry with him. He will understand the emotion which being leveled at him, but he won't have the slightest clue why. The act of going to the bathroom on the floor has no impact upon the cat -- in fact, he's probably relieved that he could have a bowel movement -- but the effect that act has upon his immediate surroundings doesn't have any meaning to him.
Unless, of course, you catch him in the act and hose him down with the water gun. In which case, there is a direct corellation set up in his mind between cause and effect.
Being such self-reliant and self-devoted creatures, one wonders why cats tolerate us at all (and some with argue that they don't). Masson posits that cats see us as superior predators and, with us watching over them, they can lower their guards and spend more time being kittens. We allow them the security to play and not worry about their safety and security. (It's almost Maslowian in its simplicity.)
However, as the superior predator in the group, we have to remember that cats trust us not to abuse the relationship which they have entered into with us. For a cat to offer you its belly to scratch is a huge sign of trust because a cat's underbelly is one of its most exposed parts.
Note to self: Baloo isn't a lunatic. You probably deserved that lacertion on your forearm this morning. It's just a feline reminder to play nice with others.
Still, ow.