My last cat
was a Siamese. His name was Moss Temperton, and he was the coolest cat in the world, whose personality was exactly as Scottsie described. He was so smart and mischievous, he and I used to wrestle together. Sometimes he would wait behind a corner and as soon as I'd walk in he'd pounce me and run off. He also used to wait for me to come home from work and I'd see him sitting in the window looking at me as I approached from street level (my apartment was 3 stories up), and when I finally entered there he was, sitting on the floor waiting for me to pick him up for some lovin'.
One time I caught him eyeing a very particular skein of yarn (my ex and I used to knit) and I said, "No you don't!" I took the skein and hid it under the cover to my ex's knitting machine. A few days later when we came home I saw a trail of yarn all over the apartment, it came from the spare room where the knitting machine was. I went there and saw that the cover had been pushed aside, a small light basket on casters pushed against it from the other side of the room, and the blue ikat rug was also swept aside. My ex's two fat cats were sitting in the living room staring at us. Moss Temperton was nowhere to be seen (he was hiding under the couch).
