The Tank.
He's a cat of mystery. My sweet boy.
He's our old man. He's also a bit of a thug.
He is the king of "You think I want to be your friend,
but I don't."
He likes things just so. Bedtime should be between
10:30 and 11 pm. His place to sleep is behind my knees.
When Big E comes to bed, The Tank gets up and sits by
my pillow until the late comer is settled, and he can
resume his own favorite sleeping spot.
Above all, this is his house, and he just lets us share it with him.