Our current cats, whilst not pedigreed, are very special to us. At fourteen years old, Shadow and Zorro continue to give us lots of happiness, and occasional mischief. Today I am going to feature our black and white boy, Zorro. How did he come by his name? If you can’t tell by the photos, he bears a striking resemblance to the man with the sword, as you can see by his black mask, moustache and cape.
I am always amazed at the diverse purr-sonalities and character traits that all our different feline companions have had. When we use the term “pets”, it is only because we enjoy patting and cuddling them. We really know who is in charge, but sometimes they let us believe that we are in control.
Take, for example, Zorro. A creature of habit, he lies across my husband’s legs when we go to sleep, but then halfway through the night, usually when it gets a little cold, or closer to dawn in the warmer weather, he moves towards the pillows.
If I am facing outwards, lying on my side, Zorro taps me on the back of the head. When my response is a little slow, he unsheaths his claws and gives me a gentle scratch on my scalp, never hurting me, but enough to make me move. I am well-trained, and roll over, facing the middle of the bed, so that he can curl up on the pillow next to me and have his obligatory cuddle.