He showed up one day in January, cold, frightened, and alone. I couldn't stand it. I fed him. The neighbors also fed him.
I call him Morris, like the iconic cat with the descriminating taste. Doesn't really suit him, though. Picky, he ain't! I also call him Honeyboy.
This is my front door mat, the spot he has chosen as his.
Can you tell?
He is very loving, to the point where he is hard to photograph, he wants to be petted.
He is also a bit playful.
The pictures don't quite do him justice. He is, like so many of us, ummm...fat. Picture, if you will, a football covered in orange fur. Add four legs and a head. Now mentally fill that football with lead. That should do it. He is short and full, the complete oposite of Prissy, who is runway model long and thin. Perhaps I should call him Garfield.
He really wants to come live inside, but Prissy has put her foot down! So he will sleep on my door mat, or on my car, or under my bedroom window. I think we having a grand love affair.
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2 comments:
He is beautiful! And lucky too, to have a nice lady like you in his life. My mother "adopts" (more like kidnaps) some of the homeless kitties in her mobile home park. Her current baby was very young and preggers and practically feral (two Rs?) but mom was determined to save her. Baby had two beautiful kittens in one of Mom's shoes. The kittens got adopted and Baby has been spayed and now, three years later Mom is trying to "adopt" another beautiful cat in the neighborhood. I think it's wonderful when people love and care for those that cannot. And it's awesome that he picked you! Hug the kitty for me, OK?
He is BEAUTIFUL!!!!
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