My last cat was #11 - The Satan Himself. He controlled the whole village, ate food in every house and trolled all the big dogs non stop. He also brought fresh fish from the sea back home from time to time. And yet he was a total sweetheart towards me, he greeted me at the door every day when I came back from home.
We got 2 rescues, brothers. One acting tough, meowing for attention, but when there’s some noise he’s scared shitless. Stranger danger in cat form. The other is a lazy skeptical fatass, just hanging around always giving the side eye when you’re coming near.
Our last cat was 4. I opened the door one day and there he was, no tail, scar across his back and a blue bow tie. He put a paw up on the door frame, looked up at me and asked very politely, "meow?"
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