Once, when I was a wee lass, we had a cat named Puddy Tat. My family obviously has a knack for picking the best animal names. We once had a donkey (Why? Who even knows) named Donkey Hodi. Get it? Don Quixote? If you don't get it please buy a book.
I got a little off track. We had a cat named Puddy Tat. You know, Tweety Bird, "I tawt I taw a puddy tat! I did, I did!" Etc. I don't remember much about this cat, just that it lived under my bed and that we have a home video tape of me grabbing it's tail and being told to leave it alone. I'm not sure what happened to Puddy, but after that, we never got another cat. Because my dad hates them.
What I'm getting at here is, I've been seriously cat deprived in my life.. until a few days ago, when my sister in law brought home a new cat! Named.. wait for it...
He made a good first impression on me by biting me after I grabbed it's tail (old habits die hard). But I do think he likes me. He follows me around, sleeps under my bed (I have cozy under-beds obviously), and meows/claws incessantly at my door if I close it without him inside.
So you have now officially met Kitty. You are welcome.