Between the two furry boys who live with me in the Dollhouse, it would be reasonable to expect Sherman to be the drooler. Really, the slack boxer-style lips suggest that he’d be the goober monkey around here. Not true.
Leroy is a lap cat. He will not take no for an answer. In fact, I have to lock him up for most of the blogging process or he will weasel his way onto my lap, purring and stepping on random keys. He seems to really love the heat from the laptop, and it appears to sweeten the whole lap-sitting situation.
I can handle the kitty kisses. His purring makes me smile. Even the hair can be dealt with if I apply persistence and one of those sticky rollers I buy in five-packs at Costco. Unfortunately, Leroy drools. He really drools.
Do you remember that movie Beethoven from a few years back with the Saint Bernard who would fling loogies whenever he shook his beastly head? Yeah. Picture that, but with longer whiskers. Leroy gets himself situated, and then the floodgates release. He purrs. He kneads with his little pink toes. He drools all over the
sucker person who decided to give him some lap time. The white hairs that seem to swarm around him like so many fruit flies then stick to the drool spots. It’s awesome. Sigh.
Once, a good friend of mine who was very pregnant came by to visit. Leroy somehow found a way to lay across her belly that defied the laws of gravity and good taste, and the drooling commenced. A few minutes later, she had a wet patch as big as a handprint (hers, not Leroy’s) on her shirt. Oddly enough, it was Leroy who was offended in this situation, more than my poor, soggy friend. He was quite perturbed that her once comfy lap was taken up by a baby, and that he needed to take such pains to arrange himself for a snuggle.
I’m typing this, right now, from under the belly of a purring, drooling cat. He is pretty laid-back about this whole internet celebrity thing. As long as he can find at least a sliver of lap to snuggle on, Leroy’s world is a beautiful place.
Leroy’s also has the intellectual capacity of a brick of cream cheese, but today is not the day to discuss his brains.
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