So we adopted this cat a little while ago. We had been discussing such things and then some friends posted a plea on Teh Book of Face about a stray who needed a home. So it was that we arrived at the house of total strangers and collected him from them. They couldn’t keep him because their stodgy adult cats were lodging complaints about the whippersnapper in their midst. We could relate: we wanted another young cat to occupy the attentions of our kitten who was righteously pissing off our old lady cat, the Traditionally Built Hermione.
He’s a lynx-point Siamese, or looks like one. He’s stripey and has Siamese markings and coloration, and the end of his tail is kinked like a fishhook. His dazzling blue eyes are ever so slightly crossed. He’s about half grown by now, and we’ve had him a couple of months. We friended his interim-caretakers so they can see the pictures we post of him.
He’s an odd little thing. He will allow you to cradle him in your arms like a baby. He licks your hands too. I once had a cat who did this and she was bottle-fed, so I have to wonder about Neville.
A conversation was had this evening about him. The Lovely Rhonda and I were remarking to one another about the cradling and the licking. He was in front of me on the desk licking my hands.
“Why is his butt always so stinky?” I asked, and TLR replied, “Well, it’s not just his butt. Have you smelled his fur? He stinks all over.”
“Now he’s licking my sweater. It’s sticking to his tongue like Velcro.”
“And he’s not smart,” said TLR.
This is not an unusual conversation for us to have.