Max is our black silver tabby British Shorthair. He's almost 3 now- they grow up so fast! He's a house cat and enjoys hunting flies but spiders are his favourite. He's partial to a little catnip now and then, and was very put out recently when he found that his favourite catnip-stuffed toy mouse had spent the night in Jeff's mouth. Even now, when he sees this mouse he tries to cover it up as if it is you-know-what.
He has very unusual markings, looking almost as if he has been coloured in by a young child with quite a thick marker pen. When he was younger, people used to ring the doorbell just to tell us they thought he looked pretty. Max seemed a little put out by this, particularly with one old couple who were staring through the front window at him (noses pushed right up to the glass) and decided enough was enough. The Carol Singers this year stopped mid-song in response to the thunderous clash of Max hitting the double glazing at pace - claws out.
Max rarely sits on anyone's lap, except when they are on the computer. But he is affectionate in his own way: all four paws on the ground, please. He likes to know what's going on and follows you from room to room, prefering to spy on you from a high vantage point. When he's on his own, he prefers to lie on his chair with his blankie, or if its sunny, completely stretched out on his back on the windowsill.
He has his daily routine down. He'll let us know its time for bed by settling down at our bedroom door. As soon as the lights are out he'll have a quick supper-time snack, check the windows and doors for us, before settling down for the night at the foot of our bed.
