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I don’t know what else it could be.

Take Goliath, for example. He never used to be that vocal. He would chirp if he jumped between varying heights. He would squeak if you accidentally stepped on him, and he would growl as he carried toys around in his mouth.

Now, he’ll cry mournfully as he looks for a toy. As he carries it to me. As he drops it by me and waits for me to get out of the shower to throw it. He’ll whine for me to throw it even if he can’t see me and neither of us knows where it is. It’s pretty obnoxious.

Phantom has also become news kinds of annoying; although, he was always a bit annoying. He’s taken to dropping things such as expensive nail polish right off of tables and counters. He’ll grab papers from the mail slot on the fridge and try to eat them. Now, there are plenty of things — whining, knocking magnets down, clawing my boxspring — that he’s done for years. But these are new annoyances.

I love them but, come on now! You’d think that they’d be settled in their weirdness, and I could figure out what I need to do to live happily ever after with them.

Or not.

Goliath is a sleeping beauty, stretched out along my arm and contoured against my body. He keeps me warm with his soft fur. If I listen closely, I can hear him purr, a small purr for a cat his size. I’m more likely to hear his breathing than to hear him purr.

Sometimes we’ll stay like this all night, with me waking periodically to the warmth of him against me. Other nights, he can’t seem to get comfortable. So he’ll toss and turn and eventually leave, perhaps to come back a time or two to repeat the process.

There will be night when we don’t quite fit right, and his tail or paws will cover my face, and I’ll struggle to breathe. Sometimes our slumber will be broken by his brother, who unknowingly — or perhaps knowingly — walks over Goliath as he tucked under the covers.

Goliath is a sweetheart, who lets me pet him when he just wants to sleep. He tilts his head just right so I can scratch his chin or touch his ears.

He is, in almost every way, my sweet baby boy, momma’s cuddle bug.

1. The kitchen timer
2. The doorbell
3. People in the hall
4. My headphone cord
5. The phone ringing
6. The MGM lion

Ooh, so scary!

I have a problem. I have come to enjoy a glass of ice water at night, as I’m trying to fall asleep. The other night, I poured myself a glass. I set it on the nightstand. I lay down.

Goliath stuck his paw in it.

I dumped out the contents and got myself some more ice water. Then, I noticed the glass was obviously not rinsed well enough. It was all sudsy. I emptied and rinsed that glass.

I poured a third glass. Would this time be the charm? It was, finally. By then, I wasn’t quite so thirsty. Obviously, it’s harder to get a drink in this place than you’d think.

Meow Meow Face is Goliath’s new nickname. Yesterday, I mentioned how soft his fur was and if he conditioned and Wendy told me a story about Goliath’s activity.

You see, Goliath conditions his fur with sherbert that he purchases from the Cat Palace down the road. He steals money from me, sneaks out a tiny hole and walks to the palace. There, he buys his product, puts is in his pack and walks home. He conditions his fur with the cherry-flavored (but cat-scented) dessert in my tub and cleans it, so I won’t notice. He sneaks back out to recycle the tub.

The secret life of Meow Meow Face! Who knew?