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| Name: |
Layli
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Age: |
Twelve years old
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| Gender: |
Male
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Kind: |
Pixie-bob
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| Home: |
Seattle, Washington, USA
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I got Layli (full name Thlayli which means 'fur-head' in Watership Down speak) after my previous cat Hobbes passed away. Layli is a Pixie-bob and I picked him up from the breeder (Carol Brewer) when he was a kitten. He's true to the breed and is strongly bonded to me and very intelligent--as in keeps me on my toes smart. All it takes is a stern look from me, no words needed, and he knows he's done something he shouldn't. He knows facial expressions and also certain words such as squirrel (arch-enemy #1), outside, treat, Tigger (a neighbor's cat and arch enemy #2), no, and Ugly Doll.
His red Ugly Doll, or what's left of it, is a toy he's had since he was a kitten. It was a meant for people key chain but I took it off and took out some of the stuffing and put catnip inside—he carries it in his mouth and I find it in a different place every morning, sometimes in the food bowl. It's barely intact now and I've tried other Ugly Doll shapes and colors but he really only wants that one. He's also claimed a Magic Duster as a toy and carries that around in his mouth while making an odd sound. Now mind you, this is not a small thing and it's pretty entertaining to watch him walk around with it (he holds the dusting end in his mouth with the handle out to the side).
He has quite the vocabulary of sounds with each one having a different meaning which took me several years to learn, but he's trained me well and I have no illusions about who's in control at my house (and it's not me). He always has something to say about everything Kiwi and must inspect every bag (doesn't matter if it's plastic or paper) that comes into the house. If you don't let him inspect it, you'll get swatted, hissed at, and then told off for good measure. He's a big boy with big paws and isn't afraid to use his claws to make a point.
When I go out of town I have to wait to pull out the suitcase until the last minute as he knows what it means and starts pouting. But when I get back, I'm treated to his ‘turbo purr' for two days as he's so happy to see me. I get greeted every day at the door when I come home from work and he sleeps with me at night (he has a kitty brother that he won't let stay in the bedroom at night and dominates his fur brother). During the day, I get followed from room to room and he demands lots of attention. About a year ago, he picked up a new thing and will take his paw and tap your face (or other body part that's readily accessible) when he wants petting or to be loved on.
Even with all his demands (like having to cut up raw chicken in just the right size chunks since he won't eat it ground), I love him to bits—he's the best cat ever with loads, and I do mean loads, of personality. Sometimes it's hard to believe a cat can have that much personality and we can be so bonded. I'm certainly never bored with Layli around and I can't imagine life without him.
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