He was born to be a loverboy.

I have a cat that loves being a cat. Loves being himself. He exudes happiness. His name is Loverboy. And that's so appropriate. He likes his role in my household. Yes, to literally act like a loverboy cat. He has a playmate. Chenuska. They frequently cuddle. And play and romp together. But it's Loverboy who's the initiator. He exudes playfulness. And he comes up to me often. And treats me like a big cat. He'll even groom me with his sandpaper tongue. He follows me all over the house. I have no privacy. Even now, he's watching me from a cushion atop my desk. He sleeps with me. He wakes me in the morning by grooming my face. Loverboy came from an animal shelter. Several years ago. I thought Chenuska was a bit lonely. I was down to one cat. After having several for years and years. So I went to the local animal shelter. And announced that I wanted a 3-year-old neutered, declawed male cat. There was only one cat that fit that description. Loverboy had been at the shelter for 3 months. Nobody wanted him. I think he was waiting. For me. Over the years, I've had many, many cats. None more loveable than Loverboy. He tells me he's comfortable in his own skin. There's nothing he'd rather be than a cat. He was born to be a loverboy. --Jim Broede