by N. A. Green

Created on: March 05, 2009

My cat is a jerk.

There, I said it. And I mean it. He's a jerk.

Said feline is named Hannibal. It was my husband who named him when he was just a kitten. We already had two cats, but when I laid eyes on a litter of kittens I must have shot my husband an unintentionally pleading look because he immediately said, "NO."

I looked at him innocently, stating that I didn't want another cat; that two cats were more than enough. He just looked at me skeptically as I averted my gaze (a little longingly) toward the sleepy, purring litter of kittens.

I never intended on taking one of the little creatures home. I meant what I had said when I told him that two cats were quite enough, thank you. The fact that I would adopt every single kitten in the universe if I had the time, money, and space is one thing but the logical part of my brain knew that we didn't really need another kitty. A week had passed since the "kitten incident" when I received a text message on my phone from my husband:

"We can get a kitten if I get to name it."

Well, heck, pull my arm why don't you? Hannibal became a part of our family. He is a white and grey striped cat, with raccoon-rings around his tail. His eyes look as though they have been rimmed with black eyeliner and it appears as though he is wearing black lipstick. I affectionately call him my little "emo kitty".

Hannibal is an adorable cat, the kind that you can't help but want to cuddle. He has the softest fur, and the bushiest tail you've ever felt. The only problem about cuddling with Hannibal is that he has no interest in it whatsoever. When you try to pick him up, he becomes dead weight (and believe me, he is no small feline) and just stares at you with a look that says, "Really?"
He will complacently lie in your arms, making no attempt to feign interest or enjoyment at the fact that you are holding him. He will tolerate your affections for approximately thirty seconds, and then he becomes all arms, legs, and claws. Sometimes the best plan of action when he is trying to make his escape is to just let him go and fall to the floor, else he will find his own way out and it will usually result in loss of blood on your part.

Hannibal loves water, which mystifies me as I have never had a cat that enjoyed it before. I often find him just lying in the bathtub, usually with his tail in a puddle of water that hasn't quite made its' way down the drain yet. My toilet seat is perpetually wet, because Hannibal likes to perch atop the open seat, stick his paws

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