Little Boy is not a small cat. At about two years old, he is still
growing. He is growing into what I thought was a fat body, but just
turns out to be the foundation for a large, and not-fat cat. He is
still dealing with the awkwardness of growing up, much as Lori's Sammy
is.

Today, I was in the bathroom, when Little Boy comes running in to join
me. He jumps into the bathtub, then tries to get gtracefully up on the
rim of the tub. Unfortunately, his ungainly body pulls him completely
over the side, and drops him on the floor behind the commode.

He stops for a minute, then decides he can still get on the rim from
where he is. He jumps up... and goes completely over the side into the
battub. From there, he gives me a sad look, but decides to try again.

This time, he uses the edge of the toilet seat as a third balance
point, and manages to get up on the edge of the tub. He then walks
over to the corner, which has more foot room, to do a turnaround, then
stands with front paws on my leg.

I think I heard a sigh of relief in there somewhere.

Finally, he investigates the toilet (Hey, those whiskers TICKLE!), but
I am almost done. I tell him it is a different kind of litterbox, and
that he is always welcome to try it out. As I flush, he leans in
closer. Thankfully, not falling in.

I will be glad when he becomes comfortable with his full growth. I am
just a little worried about what his full growth will be. I may have
to train him to a saddle (big grin)...

Hugs and Purrs,
Mark