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Milo's family: Jerry and Beatlejuice (cat) | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Birthday:
August 16, 1989 Age: 12 Sex: male Weight: 13 lbs. Residence: New York, New York Significance of name: He's named for the town of Milo, Maine, where I have a cabin. IQ: 150. He can read my mind. When it's time to put him in his carrier he seems to know to make himself scarce. It doesn't matter how clever I think I'm being in keeping him from knowing that we'll be traveling (like packing the trunk 3 days in advance and not leaving stuff by the door), he figures it out. And he always knows when a can I happen to be opening is not for him. Purrometer index: average in intensity and pitch. If I give him a quick pat or stroke him for just a few seconds he doesn't purr. He starts up only if he senses I'm committed to petting him. Favorite place to hang out: tree house in the living room Favorite toy: a stuffed Alf. He ripped its face off, which pleased me greatly. I sewed it back together with wanton carelessness to give it a more bearlike look. Favorite people food: rice, canned salmon Favorite thing to chew: plastic bags or the plastic handles on shopping bags. I do my best to keep these away from him. Best trick: chasing a ball of aluminum foil and bringing it back for me to throw again -- he won't do this with a paper ball. He taught me this trick, by the way. Temperament/personality: warm, friendly, likes people; athletic. Cutest thing Milo does: rolling on his back and looking at me upside down with paws up. Least appreciated thing he does: eating Beatlejuice's food On a scale of 1 to 10, how human is Milo?: 8. He's considerably more evolved than a human. Some human things Milo does are: knot a necktie, polish the furniture, and clean the sink. If Milo could talk, he'd say: "Lose the carrier, huh, chief?" Memorable moment: Milo was my first cat, and when I introduced Beatlejuice into the apartment, I did it by the book to ensure that Milo would adjust. I kept Beatlejuice in a closed room for 3 or 4 days. Milo was exceedingly curious. When I finally opened the door, they touched noses, and Milo hissed -- once -- and within a half hour they were playfully chasing each other. Milo was great -- dominant but not a bully. Amusing thing Milo did as a kitten: When he was small, he would spring onto the back of a wicker rocking chair, sort of claw his way up to the top, go over the top, and descend down the front. Of course, the chair would rock a bit as he did this. As weeks went by and he got bigger the chair would rock more extremely, until he got too strong and too large and the chair would fall over. Cute story: May the gods strike me down if I have a "cute" story. Comment: Not sure if Milo belongs on this site. He's not really cute, he's The Man. |
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