Here are some sweet images for our pictures of Cats. Meet Gilbert. One smart Godzilla. Ah, Gilbert! He’s my boy. I hand picked him from a litter of brown tabbies.
Say “Hello” to Gilbert as he enjoys a nice toasty sunbath!
His mother was a pregnant stray that my friend took in and he was the only black kitten. He came to live with me when I moved out of my parents’ house at the age of 31 (back in 1994).
As my husband and I were first getting to know each other, Gilbert became a part of our relationship. He was my companion, my symbol of liberty and my challenge.
At first, we thought of calling Gilbert, “Godzilla” because he was a terrorizing little kitten. He would stalk us on his hind legs, slashing out with tiny, razor-sharp claws and pointy little teeth. Now, he is the gentlest of creatures who only extends his nails when trying to cadge some margarine from my fingertips.
From day one, Gilbert loved his food. He ate like a horse and grew like a panther, but he was active with it, so he never put on pounds. His father must have been a Siamese because he has that lean, intelligent look around the face and he is one smart cat!
He’s athletic and can snag a mouse or bottle-top ring in mid-air as well as Peyton Manning clutches the pigskin. He can take a downward flight of stairs in record time and leaps on his horizontally held scratching post, riding it like a mechanical bull.
His favorite game is “Let’s make the bed. Only problem is, he is more of a hindrance than a help, dashing under the sheets, or pouncing on top of them as they billow down in place.
Here is “G” attacking his favorite scratch post.
Gilbert is so-named after the immortal William S., librettist of the famous operettas. He lives up to his name in that he is comical and extremely vocal — each night after we are in bed, for no apparent reason, “G” (as we often call him) heads down into the basement where he sets to howling. It is truly eerie and for fun, we sometimes pretend that we don’t have any cats and we are in fact, haunted.
Gilbert and Daisy sharing a cozy spot on a big comfy chair.
“G” is a big baby. He loves to be stroked and scratched. He loves to snuggle up next to you on the duvet but most of all he loves to eat! When food is being prepared for all the cats, Gilbert runs his “circuit” around and around the wall that separates the living room from the dining room and kitchen.
He canters in a circle like a trained, be feathered Barnum and Bailey horse, his pace increasing as the food gets closer to being ready. He is a stallion.
Life would be shades different without him.
You can’t wash these. It took me weeks to get them this way.
Who’s there when you call
Who is loyal and true?
Who sleeps at your feet
Who’s the closest to you?
Who, when you sniffle
Always talks back?
Who has the keenest
Of urinary tracts?
Who leaps to catch?
Then hunkers down?
Who jumps the post
And plays the clown?
Who pummels the cushion
To a misshapen mass?
Who snuggles with teddies
And peers in the glass?
Who stuffs his face?
And then wants more?
Who lives for kibble,
Who runs when called?
And grunts reply?
Who howls in fear
When trouble’s nigh?
The answer of course
Is no surprise;
It’s Gilbert, the black
With the green, hooded eyes
Gilbert, or Gilbey
Who comes every time
He’s the “Handsome Boy”
Of whom I rhyme.
Time for a catnap.
A little maintenance work from high atop the scratch post.
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