She doesn't eat treats... It's just not her style. But she will eat them if you leave it, and walk away.
She wont sit on your lap... or mine for that matter. But she will sit on Brendan's lap, because he's the daddy. I think she knows who's in charge.
She is delicate and tiny, and almost frail. She is getting over being very very sick. She is smokey and soft, and if you just saw her run by, you might think her a ghost.
Bagheera is a loud mouth. He will let you know when he is hungry, and he will let you know when he is irritated.
He stares down our dog, because he is well over half her size, and honestly, in a fight, Bagheera would win, hands down.
Bagheera makes friends, and sits on shoulders on the back of the couch. Half his body on the couch, half his body on you. When he really likes you, he walks along the back of the couch and bumps your head.
Some people find that disturbing, but I find it lovely. He looks like a jungle cat... like a dignified gentleman when he sleeps. His jaw line, his musculature are all so refined. He is a cat you don't forget.
He was turned out on the street by his owner. For six months he wandered, and then was picked up. And then we took him home, and now he's my baby.
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