Surrounding its ankles and disguising its long black shoes are big pink bows.
My most valuable possession is an old, slightly warped blond guitar―the first instrument I taught myself how to play.
Gregory does not do this to establish his territory, as many cat experts think, but to humiliate me because he is jealous of my friends.
After my guests have fled, I look at the old fleabag snoozing and smiling to himself in front of the television set, and I have to forgive him for his obnoxious, but endearing, habits.
Gregory is as finicky about visitors as he is about what he eats, befriending some and repelling others.
He may snuggle up against your ankle, begging to be petted, or he may imitate a skunk and stain your favorite trousers.