Sinbad, my cat from long ago, is on my mind today. He was a big, heavy, jet-back Maine coon cat mix, lacking the ear tufts of a full coon cat but sporting a heavy coat all year long. The giant puffball was the most un-catlike feline of all time! He would practically humiliate himself by begging to be held every waking moment. “Sinbad Kitty,” as we often called the massive furball, was addicted to cuddling!
The classic aloofness exhibited by most cats was utterly absent from him. The cat had no shame. None! From the moment he entered a room, his every intent was to be held and petted, and you were immediately drafted into the “pet the black kitty corps.” There was no escape; you were his until he was satisfied, and Sinbad was never satisfied. Once he had you right where he wanted you—in your lap, weighing you down—he would rub his head beneath your chin and emit deep, rumbling purrs of satisfaction so strong, it was like a furry motor was pushing against you.
Sinbad was loving and comforting, but he also had a bottomless pit for a stomach. Unfortunately for us, the pit wanted one thing: Science Diet cat food. That wasn’t just kibble to him, it was crack for cats and he was hooked. There were at least two times in which I placed that cat food in a cabinet only to return to an empty bag and an overstuffed kitty. It was his one failing, but I couldn’t be mad at him. Sinbad was just too cute to do anything but love him.
I miss my huge, rumbling, kibble-addicted kitty. He remains one of the pets whose memory brings a smile to my face.