Listen, I’m fully aware I’ve already done a cat gratitude post. Yay to the kitties, yay to the feline fur babies, all the yays.

But here’s the thing. Seven gets his own post today.

This is our spunky boy. He flies around the room going Mach 10. He chatters at bugs, caterwauls at windows, and sings in the litter box. Seven chews every freaking cord he comes across. He’s swatted all the animals in this house and been met with fury, amusement, or measured indifference for his trouble.

Seven’s just…a lot. He’s a whole dang lot. But he’s our a lot, y’know?

Anyway, here’s the thing about Seven. He’s all rage-y rough and tumble 99% of the time. He’ll rocket through the house, dangling from stairs and catapulting over dogs. Some days I wonder how his actual hair isn’t on fire. If I could bottle Seven energy and add it to my coffee every morning I’d be set for oh, I don’t know, a decade?

But every now and then I’m blessed by the appearance of Snuggly Seven. He’s the kitty who climbs up on me and turns around three times before tucking himself into the crook of my elbow. He’ll snuffle and coo while I scratch under his chin. Sometimes Seven will slowly roll over until he’s belly up, paws flopped over, snoring away as I stare at his polka dot belly. On my luckiest days he’ll set up camp on my lap for an hour, a little Siesta On Kitty Time that I accept with gratitude.