at 11 1/2 years old, cecil is my delicate, fluffy, lion-maned, little grandpa kitty. he is a long-haired dark gray boy with tufts of fur that come out in between the bottoms of his toes. when he lays by himself, he will lay on his stomach with his front paws outstretched and crossed at the wrist (do cats have wrists??) like a prissy little rich cat. he is timid and scares easily, but when the younger one gets all up in his personal space, he is not afraid to slap. cat slaps are one of my favorite things. slap-slap-slap followed by a short and to-the-point "hiss", and cecil has made it known. don't "f" with me.
then there's my baby...lewis. affectionately known as "mewis", he will turn 9 in july. yes, i know when my cats' birthdays are! he eats small children for a midnight snack, is constantly on top of me, whores himself out for attention when company comes over, and snores like a grown man. it's disgustingly fascinating. and when he gets excited about something, his little butt wiggles. it scares my mom, but i think it's cute. he looks like a giant toasted marshmallow with fur.
i would like to point out that in spite of the fact that i am 34, single, and have two cats, i am NOT the cat lady. nor will i ever be...at least not for a while...
the lion
the mew
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