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Another night and Chloe getting shut eye over my thigh. As usual she got a good 30 minutes or so while I surfed the net, watched youtube vids on my phone before gently nudging her off so I could get my sleep.

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I got a picture of my two dead cats done for Christmas and it's been sitting on the back of the sofa since then (I'm very lazy).

Orson was on the back of the sofa yesterday and seemed to suddenly notice it was cats. He was staring at it really intently and then looking at me in a really weird way and then back at the picture.
 
Neither of mine are lap cats, particularly - Viv not at all and Donut only occasionally in the evenings - and they also never wake us up for food, which I find unbelievably polite of them. However, most mornings if one of us is still in bed, Donut likes to come up and say thank you for his breakfast once he's eaten it :) He jumps up, lies on my chest with his massive paws out, looks deep into my eyes and purrs his head off. Breakfast gratitude cuddles :cool: Of all the cats I've ever had, he's quite the courtly gentleman.
 
This is an absolutely terrible quality photo, but it shows how Sonic likes to sit on me. He needs to actively be cuddled and kind of clings on and gazes up at me...

This is how Tat, our grey, is with my daughter. He loves to sit on her furry dressing gown. Like she's a big cat. I'll have to get a photo of them.

He just uses me as a doorman. I'm sat closest to the double doors out into the back yard and he doesn't like going through the catflap I got for him and his sister so he stands at the door and looks up at the handle. If I take too long he looks back over his shoulder at me, "human! Huuuuman! The door is closed for me." Then I open it and he walks off with a "stupid human" air.
 
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Zoe turns 15 today. Doesn't seem five minutes since she was an absolutely crazy kitten who looked like a cross between Yoda and a Tasmanian devil.

Strange having one cat whose birthday you know, and another where you don't even know how old they are. (We think Paddy's about ten, but who knows?).
 
Strange having one cat whose birthday you know, and another where you don't even know how old they are. (We think Paddy's about ten, but who knows?).

Missy's paperwork had two conflicting dates for when she was born, so all I can say is that she has turned or will turn 6 this year.

Here she is, using her valuable time productively, even if she risks making one side of whiskers wonky:

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It's interesting that the only whisker that has stayed straight is her lone black one.
 
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