It is Wednesday, and we are posting on time. Today, I just wanted to tell you about how happy I get when Mom holds me. She had told me about a cat she had named Homer. He was a 22 pound marmalade tabby with a big white belly. He liked to be held like a baby with his belly up so she could rub it. If she tried that with me, she might need to call the EMT’s for emergency medical attention when I shredded her hands! I would consider such a position totally undignified.

Mom also told me about a cat Dad inherited named Segia. She was a great dog-cat who liked to help Dad work on cars. She did not want to be held. She preferred draping herself across shoulders. From that position, she could easily groom the back of his head. I’ll leave such actions to my sister Sophia, although she hasn’t been doing that since she has been sick.

For me, the perfect position for being held is with my front feet on her shoulder, my nose pressed into her ear, and my back feet resting on her stomach or on any part of her that sticks out from there. She is better for that then Dad. Below you can see a picture of how handsome I am while she is holding me. We do often have words when she wants to put me down, but I am quick to ask her to pick me up again. I think it is in my contract that she must hold me as much as I want to be held. I may need to find an attorney to make certain those details are followed.