A poem and the resulting comments over at Papernapkin reminded me of my late cat, the original Muffin.
We adopted Muffin as a kitten from the Brooklyn ASPCA when I was nine. My mom and I went into the kitten cage and this little skinny ball of fluff jumped right into my arms. From that moment, he was mine.
He was 8 weeks old when we got him, and he grew from a fluff-ball into a leggy teenager and then...
It was a few years before we realized he was a compulsive eater. We bought one of those dry food things that holds enough food for a week. We filled it up and went out to run some errands. When we got back, Muffin was passed out, face-down in the food bowl. There were three pieces of dry food left.
We once discovered that he had sneaked into a neighbor's house, beaten up their German Shepherd and was found eating his way to the bottom of the dog food bag.
He was a total lovey cat though. He looooooved to have his tummy rubbed (see picture). He would sleep next to me with his head on my pillow at night. When we came home he would come running for hugs and kisses.
By the time he was 3, he bore a pretty good likeness to the B. Kliban cats (which I would link to but their site is annoying. Phtttth.)