Reader Witchylana has entered her gray tabby George, and a handsome specimen he is, too:
In 2009, my husband and I separated temporarily. His new place was too quiet, so he got George for company. George was tiny when he was brought home – he was supposed to be eight weeks, but was probably only 5 weeks old – and so, he thinks Husband is his Mummy.
When Husband moved back home, George came with him. My older cat, Connery, was Not Impressed (it’s been 18 months, and Connery has only recently started to remain in any room that contains George).
George is the most affectionate kitty I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. He “talks” constantly, and won’t eat unless someone hangs out with him. He loves having his belly rubbed, and lets my child treat him like a stuffed animal. His preferred method of locomotion is to be carried, cradled like a baby, belly-up. He throws “tantrums” when Husband leaves the house, and sticks to him like velcro when he gets back.
And he managed to completely wreck that wastepaper basket.