I added Miles to the Walcott household in June of 1999, so he’s about 13 years old now. A friend of mine had convinced me (not that I needed much persuading, mind you) that it would be good to have another cat to keep Tinker company during the times I wasn’t at home. We set out for the Houston SPCA and got to work finding a sibling for Tinker, circling the large windows looking into the cats’ cages. Since Tinker had been such a great addition to my apartment, I focused on female tabbies. Linda had other ideas, though, and honed in on Miles, an outgoing black and white kitten who was trying to play with Linda through the glass. We asked to see him in the play area, and I had to admit he was adorable, and I signed on the dotted line. (Ironically, when I picked him up after he was neutered, he had caught a cold. His runny eyes and nose and repeated sneezes were not that cute, though luckily only temporary.)
Miles displayed a lot of affection as a kitten, so I thought Tinker might bond with him and assume a motherly role. That didn’t really happen, and at best she tolerated his rambunctious affectionate personality. They were playmates from time to time, until the introduction of a third cat into the mix changed the intrafeline dynamics. (More on Spaz later.)
Miles still craves affection as a grown cat, so much so that Chris and I joke he’s a dog masquerading in a cat’s body. You know that adage about cats being aloof? Not Miles in the least. He demands attention in the most persistent manner that he simply will not be denied. He’s not a small cat, either, so when he sidles next to you on the couch, you know it.
Although I’m the one who adopted Miles, and Chris didn’t come into his life until he was two, Miles is truly a “daddy’s boy”. He’s also a cat with a big personality, and his demands can sometimes take their toll. Just last week Miles was snuggling rather forcefully with Chris, so much so that Chris ejected him from his chair with a bit of a scolding. Miles slunk over to his cat box and settled in, staring at me on the couch. For some reason, even though I have experienced first-hand a Miles annoyance or two, I felt badly for Miles and quietly patted the couch next to me. I could see in his eyes that he was seriously considering the invitation. Around the same time, Chris must have started to feel guilty because he called over to Miles, who needed no invitation to return to his spot next to Chris, purring loudly as all became right in his world again.
Miles is head-butting my foot now, so I guess it’s time to play.