Someone very important has been absent from this blog until today. Our cat. His name is Roman, which is actually short for...wait for it...Romanee-Conti. As in Domaine de la Romanée-Conti. Yes, we tried to give him the most pretentious name possible. So funny to hear them say his full name at the vet's office especially since this jolly fat cat is exactly nothing like a fine French wine. Or is he?
He is more like a dog in cat's clothing. Always where the action is, always in the center of the family. While most cats retreat to a far off room during a party, he is a social butterfly going from lap to lap. After initial comments of "Wow, that cat is huge" people ooh and aah over how friendly he is.
Maybe it is because I practiced "attachment cat parenting" before we had kids?
Kidding. I was just using him as a tester for a sling I was trying out. He liked it though, that is the silly part. Such a patient cat.
And I'm amazed that I have't had to mention him because he always manages to insert himself in nearly every photo I take. A lot of the time, this is annoying:
We can play a "Where's Waldo?" game of where is the cat in our family photos and most of the time there is a part of him in every shot. Usually his butt:
He is a big, fat sweetheart. He purrrs while my son climbs on him or plays drums on his belly. He even tolerates tail pulling. I don't think he ever once got up and walked away, he loves attention in any shape or form.
You can't lay or sit down for more than a couple minutes before he plops himself down next to you. Below was the day before I went into labor a time when there was a great deal of lounging around, much to his delight:
And he loves everyone in the family, he certainly doesn't pick favorites.
He even has managed to get a few (well supervised - this cat weighs more than our toddler!) cuddles in with the very wee one:
Although most often he is being cuddled climbed on by the three year old:
He was a kitten rescue from a shelter. The catlady said he was bottlefed and that bottlefed animals are very special because they think they are human. Boy, we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into that day we picked him out. The fact that he stuck his tiny paw out and grabbed us as we walked by should have given us a clue. He has mellowed down with age though. Perhaps he is like a fine wine afterall? (You all knew that preditable "better with age" ending was coming, right?)
PS - as I type, Roman has tried twice to climb on my lap (that currently is occupied by a sleeping baby) and finally settled down next to me on the sofa.
