He was a very, very sick orange kitty, who used up at least four of his nine lives in the first ten weeks of his existence. I brought him back from the farm to North Carolina a little over a year ago, and he has grown into a magnificent and delightful cat.
His tail is his most remarkable physical feature, long and bushy, though his tabby fur is not really full and not really short, either. His personality is what shines. He’s very friendly and likes to give high fives. He’s real helpful. My sister calls him a “sidler.” No matter what I am doing, he will sidle up, check out my work, and try to assist. He is excellent at clearing off a table of loose pencils and paperclips, of scattering neatly swept piles of floor grit, and helping me wash dishes. Sometimes, he just HAS to check the water running from the faucet to make sure its flow is properly sufficient.
He is helpful with my little dog, Hattie, too. He is her boon companion. He will stalk her in the yard, leap on her, and flip her over, though she outweighs him by seven or eight pounds. Then they will roll and tussle in the grass, Hattie will take off at full speed, Beedle close behind, and when they re-appear from circling the house, Beedle will be in the lead, places switched, with Hattie chasing.
My favorite time with Beedle is in the evening. After a short game of fetch with wadded up paper, he’ll cuddle on my lap, purring deeply. Then he and Hattie will patty cake and groom each other. They both have really clean ears.
Hattie and I are head-over-heels, totally in love with Mr. Beedle Weedleman. It’s good to have a man around the house.