Mouse the Cat has personality to spare. I adore him from his cute little ears
to his sometimes-scented toes.
Living with Mouse is akin to life with a toddler. He’ll go non-stop, then suddenly collapse in a heap somewhere. He insists on being picked up or carried, oblivious to the fact that you may have things to do.
He wants in and then he wants out. He stands on his back paws and peers out the door with a demanding sense of urgency. Life is always better on the other side of a door when you’re a cat. He wants to follow me into the bathroom as well, just like my own boys did when they were two.
He loves to “help.”
I can help with that, too.
When he wants your attention, he wants it NOW!
He adheres to the toddler principal of “what’s mine is mine.”
We could have brought home a goldfish instead of surrounding ourselves with cats, but I can’t imagine how dull life would be. Toddlers might be terrors, but they also possess an infectious energy and charm.
This four-legged “toddler” technically belongs to a neighbor, but he moved in with us years ago and we’re so glad he stayed. We wouldn’t want it any other way. This year Mouse turns 7 in human years but in our hearts he’ll always be 2.