Loverboy and I have the same ways.

My cat, Loverboy, is full of vitality. Loving vitality. More so than the average cat. Seems to me that he’s in love with life. In love with being a cat. His mate, Chenuska, is sort of lethargic. Lazy. Laid-back. Less curious. She likes Loverboy. And Loverboy likes her. Actually, Loverboy likes everyone and everything. He’s a true Loverboy. At the moment, Loverboy is at the sliding glass door. Looking out. At the activity outdoors. He’s strictly an indoor cat. Unless I take him outdoors. Supervised. Never alone. He appreciates the outdoors. But he’s too trusting to live outdoors. He wouldn’t last long. Too loving. Loverboy also can be mischievous. The last two nights he toppled a vase of flowers. Spilling water all over the floor in my study. I guess he wanted to sniff the flowers. And maybe munch on the leaves. In the process, he was reckless. Of course, I didn’t see him do it. But it couldn’t have been anyone else. He’s been duly reprimanded. But I don’t think he took my words seriously. He’ll keep doing pretty much as he pleases. That’s his way. My way, too. –Jim Broede