Sunday, February 8, 2015
Not all cats are "belly cats." We have two out of five: Possum, who exhibits his fluffy girth with pride every day, and Toffee, above, who makes up in length what he lacks in width.
I keep hoping that Lion will develop belly-cat tendencies. He transforms from a mostly black cat to a mostly white one when he's on his back; it's still rare enough to be a startling sight. He will lie on his back, flailing and swatting at Possum, to provoke him into fake-biting his paws. But he's just not one of those cats who have the courage, attitude, or je ne sais quoi to sleep on their backs.
Harris is not a real belly cat but, if you talk to him while he's curled up, he'll roll onto his back and purr. Since he's a little guy, his belly isn't as dramatic as Possum's but it's great all the same.
Wendy lets my husband stroke every belly every day — as long as he is sitting in his leather armchair during her scheduled belly-rubbing hour. If I try it in his place, I sometimes get away with it, too.