We have 3 cats-- two and a spare, really. (Never should have let Mr. M pick up tiny IzzyGirl...) And I LOVE a good fuzzy So Anthony, my perfect orange-striped mama's boy, has taken to walking into a room, making eye contact with me, and then rolling onto his back so that I fuss over him.
He'll stretch, and clean his face, knowing that he has us trained. Mr. M and I coo at him as long as he keeps it up, and then he walks off.
His older brother, Romper, has been rolling for the attention of strangers for years. Romper is the biggest attention 'ho you'd ever want to meet-- we'll never get robbed, because a burgler wouldn't have time to take our stuff after giving all the attention Romper demands.
But now tiny Izzy is catching on. Just in the last week or two, she's started the tummy show. She has a big purr for a kitten who obviously couldn't afford all of her calico, and that purr goes full steam when her papa rubs her chest.
There are some seriously spoiled kits in our house. Spoiled humans, too.
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"So keep fightin' for freedom and justice, beloveds, but don't you forget to have fun doin' it. Lord, let your laughter ring forth. Be outrageous, ridicule the fraidy-cats, rejoice in all the oddities that freedom can produce. And when you get through kickin' ass and celebratin' the sheer joy of a good fight, be sure to tell those who come after how much fun it was."
-Saint Molly Ivins