I've had Hugh since he was a newborn kitten, just a handful of snoozing fur. I got him from a farmer friend of mine in the springtime; his mother was a little black barn cat, and his father was a "travelin' man". Despite having a tiny mother, Hugh grew to over 18 musclebound pounds.
In his salad days he was quite an athlete - he could snatch a flying toy mouse out of the air, four feet off the ground, in a vertical 360. Nowadays he's not so quick and lithe, although he's still playful for his age. He's sprained his back a few times, his right ear is withered from an old injury, and to my chagrin he has become incontinent - he pees in his sleep. This has resulted in his being evicted from our new bed, poor chap.
He has always been friendly and social, with everyone except toddlers and dogs. All his life he has followed me around the house like my shadow, and still parks himself on my person for naps at every opportunity. In every way, a most agreeable little companion.
Gail and Hugh have been getting to know each other, over the past few months. It's going well so far; it's a novelty for him to have someone around during the day to complain to when he's hungry (always) and to allow him a foray outside to blink at the sun, when the weather is fair. (He's declawed in the front, so I can't let him run free; he couldn't fight a fully-armed cat, if the need arose.) I'm glad to report that Gail likes him too, and has been kind and patient with the old bean.
He has certainly never been photographed so much! And Gail has really been able to capture his personality; Her Flickr album of his pictures is hilarious, and has drawn many comments; he is easily the most popular subject among my photos too. Last night Gail posted a photo of Hugh sitting at the table, looking at her Powerbook; within hours someone posted this picture of their cat, watching Hugh's picture on their laptop! Gail and I were in stitches.
