of sweetness and Simons

I have never met a cat this devoted.

Rather, I suppose, I have never met a cat this devoted to me. I'm sure there are plenty of cats who are deeply attached to their people. But Simon is something of a wonder.

This cat gets so upset when I'm gone that he refuses to use his litterbox (a potentially life-threatening condition, for male cats). He wakes me up every morning purring in my ear and walking all over my back and shoving his head in my face. If I'm lying on my stomach with my arm over my head, and trying not to respond, he wriggles his head under my arm, and if that doesn't work, he pats my face with his paw. Tap, tap tap. Mom? Get up, Mom. He comes when I call him. He loves the weekends when I'm home all day and don't do anything; he'll come periodically to see what I'm doing and hunker down on the arm of my chair next to me, and if I'm taking a nap, he's curled as tightly to my body as he can get. On weekdays when I'm not around as much, he follows me all over the house, and curls up in whatever room I happen to be sitting in. We have developed a few of our own games that he loves to play, most of which involve chasing or ambushing me.

He loves to be kissed on the forehead, and will incline his head sharply as just the last moment the better to receive a kiss.

Right now he's playing with a plastic milk jug ring -- his favorite toy -- and usually whenever I give him one, right before I leave for work, when I'm standing around in the kitchen, he brings it to the rug at my feet and plays with it there. Now, however, he's rolling all over the floor with it in the living room, having carried it to where I am.

I just completely love this cat.