Mr. Beautiful

I didn't give birth to him obviously, but I met him when he was just born. He was about three inches long, kind of shaped like a turd, and his eyes were closed. He was lying in a box in the Mary's bathroom with his sister who is black furred. 

  

Mary said to me. "Pet the gray one." And I did. Eight weeks later I took him home in a cat carrier. Si was screaming the whole way. When I got home, I opened up the cage and let him out. He took one step on the carpet and let out a huge purr.

  

Now he is either in my lap trying to wedge his head under my chin or sitting behind me on the office chair. He follows me around - to the kitchen, to the bathroom, to the dining room - so much so that I have now trained him to stay on the chair by saying, "I'll be right back."

He growls if a dog barks, if there is a knock at the front door, and when the phone rings.

  

He must be part bloodhound because he sniffs everything. If I go outside, he has to inspect the smells on my hands when I return. If I eat anything, he has to sniff my lips. If I scream, as I did the other day, because the computer made a loud unexpected sound (I don't know why), he has to investigate the source of the sound by sniffing the computer, and then he looks at me with a great deal of concern in his eyes.

  

I'm pretty sure he thinks he owns me. And I'm okay with that.

  

He's my Mr. Beautiful Chair Hog who is currently pushing my behind with his paws in order to get more room for himself.