Swirly Boy

Yesterday, I introduced the boys in our colony. I was asked if Swirly was huggable. I read that to my husband, who choked on his soda and replied, "Only if we're wearing chainmail over leather." It's a "Like Mother, like son" sort of ordeal. Neither of us would ever absently and without thought, reach out to pet his mother. We treat him like he's his mother's son.  

That got me to thinking. And I decided to write about Swirly. Swirly was part of Frosty's last litter. 

His brothers are Fiesty, Blue, and the late Mokey. His sister is Tabby. That's Ms. Tabitha to strangers. He was part of the last litter born on our property because D and I are diligent about getting all females spayed.  

He liked hanging with his siblings and his colony mates, including his Uncle Sinatra and Cousin Two-Toes.

 

 He also just liked being with his sister and his brothers.

 

Home might have been the shelter on the back porch or the back room or under the house.

 He wasn't as adventurous as his brother Blue is. Swirly liked staying at home best.   He could be found simply just poking his head out the back room to watch leaves fall. 

 And sometimes he just watches you from under the house. But Swirly is not a pet cat. He's a feral and he's proud that no human hands have ever petted him. Blue and Fiesty can't boast that brag. Only his mother, his sister, and his cousins MC and Two-Toes can share that honor with him. 

  

Sometimes, Swirly is the brave one and guards the food, letting only those he deems honorable enough to share in the bounty of fresh canned foods, treats, and dry foods.  

 He will talk when he feels that's the only way to get his point across. His favorite quest is "Special Treats." Those are bits of cooked meats, with chicken or turkey being his favorites, or a bit of meaty broth. 

He's our Swirly Boy and he is proud. Have you ever seen such colorful eyes?