Why My Cat Is Awesome

Dobby has been living with me for a whole three months now, and he's kind of fabulous. No, he's not perfect—he needs to keep the litter in the litter box and stop clawing the sofa and trying to climb the drapes—but he's an awesome little house buddy. He likes to play hide-and-seek, but he's not always very good at it.

And he hides around the corner when he knows I'm coming so he can jump out in full ninja kitty mode to surprise me—and then walks away doing what I know is a cat giggle when it actually works.

He "helps" me when I'm working from home.

Yes, he's an excellent helper. He also loves playing—with anything, really, including his tail or his reflection in the sliding glass doors. And I never knew how exciting a paper bag or an empty water bottle could be. I've started just dropping random things on the floor to see what kind of fun he'll have with them. Very entertaining.

And then there's the cuddly side of him. He sleeps in my bed, and when he knows I'm waking up, he'll come up and give me kisses and then snuggle in closer. This is how we spend Sunday mornings:

It's kind of a miracle I don't just stay there for a few hours every morning. He's always waiting at the door for me when I come home, and when I've had a long week and all I see ahead of me are more long weeks and I'm sitting there on a Saturday night feeling bummed about it, he comes up, grabs my hand, snuggles his head in close, and lets me know some things are right with the world.

It's so nice to be loved.