It was exactly one year ago today that the walls came crumbling down, and felines finally entered the Tim Seymour home. As we mentioned at the time, the acquisition of Quincy and Duncan occurred around the occasion of Clare's fifth birthday. But in reality, those cats were something I had been clamoring for since we got married. Ah, the power of suggestion.
Duncan still remains wary of the kids and has not lived up to his namesake. He's very much my cat, and you know what? I deserve him! He curls up with me on the couch at night, nestles on my legs at bedtime, and seeks out my attentions whenever I am safely alone. I don't think Danny has once gotten his mitts on him, and I imagine this is an ongoing goal for Duncan.
We have reported a few times (and demonstrated in this mildly notorious video) that Quincy has been the perfect cat for small kids. Clare and Danny both light up when they see him, and he's kind/stupid/oblivious enough to let them get a handful of his fur multiple times a day. In fact, he just can't seem to resist lurking around the kids, especially when they have friends over. He is also very affectionate with me, particularly when I am trying to do computer work. He has the loudest purr I've ever heard from a cat, and is extremely chatty (my mom attributes this to some Siamese blood, and I suspect she's right). We're crazy about him.
I say "we," and I include Tim in this grouping. He won't admit it, of course, but he has also ceased his diatribes about the cats contributing nothing to his life - despite the fact that they now sleep at our feet. He lovingly speaks to and pets the cats whenever they're nearby. And witness the treats handout in the photo! This happens a lot, and he's much more generous with the treats than I am. As far as I am concerned, my husband-shaping work is finished.
Well, maybe I won't be that hasty...
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