This is the sweetest, most affectionate jerk I’ve ever met. If I’m standing, he stands on his back legs and stretches for me to pick him up like a toddler. When I pick him up, he purrs and eventually drapes himself across my shoulders like a scarf, making it difficult for me to stand up straight. If I’m sitting, he has to be on me, rubbing his head on me and drooling. He hisses at other cats. If one of them leaves the house, when they return he acts as if it’s a whole new cat that he has to defend his territory against. He snatches clothes out of my hands and eats so fast he pukes. I love this little bastard.
Why do I especially love black cats?
Black cats are apparently the least likely to be adopted. Their black fur is actually camouflage for the dark. The internet calls them voids. In the Middle Ages, they became associated with witches and Satan. They were often the unmentioned victims of witch hunts which involved mass killings of black cats. This bias has persisted in the form of superstitions regarding black cats being bad luck omens.
However, black cats are considered good luck in Japan, Germany, Scotland, France, and on ships. They are beautiful creatures, and every black cat I’ve ever had was loving and sweet. I guess in a way I relate to the prejudice and being misunderstood.