Spread Eagle

I was just talking to my friend Amanda who has recently adopted two highly-in-need cats to join her home and I was describing how similar my cats are to the ones she now has (and used to have). At some level, I guess all cats are the same?

Anyway - as much as I bitch and moan about the one who peed on our brand new leather couches Iz, I can't help but love him dearly. I mean, just look at him.


He's so completely black you can't make heads or tails right? But this is him, in all his glory, spread eagle on our bed. This is how he sleeps pretty much most of the time. Not curled up in a neat, cute little ball. No, spread out and taking up as much room as cat-ly possible.

He carries this sort of attitude with him everywhere he goes and I was trying to describe to Amanda just what I meant, but it's really hard to do. He requires constant love and attention - but only when you're sitting on the toilet and at his mercy. He wants in, then he wants out, then he wants in, then he wants out. When he's outside for the night and the sun is just starting to rise, he begins pacing the backyard length of the house, meowing loudly and as persistently as possible, through our open windows (and if we don't respond, he'll station himself underneath one of our bedroom windows for good measure) to be let back in.

His strides are long and slow, full of pomp, with his big fat furry tail held high, swishing ever so gently. He looks regal, and he knows it.

He's our Bruddah Iz.