Loverboy wants his breakfast.

My cat, Loverboy, loves being a cat. That's what I like most about him. He lives his cat-life to the fullest. He relates to me. Like a cat. Being himself. He just lets himself go. He becomes a genuine loverboy cat. Tells me he's happy to be alive. And to be a cat. Especially in this household. He has me to take care of him. To see that he gets proper and ample food. And attention. Besides that, he has a mate, of sorts. Chenuska, a black cat. A few years older than him. She likes him. And he likes her. They cuddle a lot. Loverboy has come to trust me. Totally. He wants to be in my presence. At least 90 percent of the time. But he doesn't want to be like me. He'd rather be a cat than a human. Because then he'd have too much responsibility. He'd have to go shopping. And learn to write. And to fully master a human language. Instead, he'd rather spend a relatively lazy but occasionally rambunctious life as a cat. A good looking cat. With a mix of white and grey. And with two different colored eyes. One blue. The other green. Loverboy takes pride in being a distinctive cat. And in living up to his name. A genuine loverboy. That's his natural disposition. He was born as a natural loverboy cat. He loves everybody. Strangers. And even dogs. Big dogs. He'll come up and sniff anyone's nose. But he's also a mouser. Capable of killing a mouse. Or even a bird. He says that's just being a cat. Loving goes only so far. And he's smart enough to know that I want him to be a killer. When it comes to mice. That I want him to earn his keep. By keeping the house mouse-free. Loverboy keeps me company. Nestles on a cushion atop my desk. Next to the computer. Sometimes, he perches on top of the printer. And triggers the machine. To my annoyance. But hey, he knows he'll be forgiven. Also, Loverboy prods me into getting up in the morning. By pawing my face. I tell him to go away. That I want to snooze a while longer. But no, he says. He wants his morning breakfast. And then, if I want, I can go to bed again. --Jim Broede