I think it’s time to accept it. We don’t have a big 25lb cat. We just need to look at it differently. What we have here is a miniature mountain lion. Just without the whole mountain lion attitude. Don’t let his size fool you. He’s a wussy-cat. A loooooover… not a fighter. He might smother you in the bed with his sheer size and practically stop you from breathing just by sitting on your chest but at least it would be death by love.
Spanky and the camera share a special relationship. He loves it and it loves him right back. Someday, I’ll make this feline butt-head a webpage with media credits of his own because every film crew or photographer who has ever stepped foot on this property has devoted multiple megapixels and reams of film to this 25lb lump of fur. Spanky laps it up like a bowl of sweet cream. Seriously, the cat turns on the charm like a lightbulb and struts his ginger-striped self around like he’s on some sort of catwalk.
[Cue the blowing fan.]
Puh-leeze. Someone at least get this guy an agent and rack in some endorsement deals (Hello companies of organic cat food and Temptations Kitty Treats?).
He already has a fan club of people. During school days, he sits at the end of the driveway so that the teachers at the school next door can love him up. Once class is in session, he saunters into the house, proudly wafting clouds of perfume from his fur like a badge of honor. “I’m adored…”
And yes, (sadly?), people inquire about him when we’re out and about and tabling at events: “How’s Spanky?” At events here on the Urban Homestead, people request his presence and Spanky obliges willingly, ever so content to keep his fanclub pleased.
DISCLAIMER: Yes, I’m not ashamed to admit, I’m a card carrying member of the I-love-Spanky fanclub and this post was written in between bouts of Spanky-snuggling with lots of snorgling and mooshing my face into his fuzzy wuzzy belly and making goo-goo blowing raspberry noises. He thinks I’ve finally lost my mind. I’m not sure I can argue with him.