my Kat is not mythological.
he has no healing powers.
he sleeps everywhere.
he makes weird grunting noises when happy.
he wakes me up at unseemly hours.
he does not even pretend to understand what i say or feel.
he is easy to wash.
he likes drinking from the tap, and tries to open it but fails.
he is not my ‘boy’ – he is my battle-f(r)iend. and i am his.
he likes to sit on the window-sill, half out, half in.
he is not pretty, but makes me think he is.
i can hold him in my arms precisely for three seconds. then he breaks free.
he likes plastic rings from bottles, which (rings) he tosses from paw to paw like in badminton.
he purrs only when he wants something, before he gets it.
he is not boring.
he is territorial.
he is neat and careful, and does not like upsetting things when he walks on shelves or my desk.
he sleeps in front of my keyboard, but not on it.
i would not exchange him for a better, more magical version.
that’s part of it, folks.