Angus turned 15 today. I bought him at a pet store on Friday, April 4, 1997. He was so small he had to put his front feet in his dish to reach the food. I looked for kittens at a pet store in Hartville that day and found only adults, and, although my heart went out to those bored cats, I wanted a kitten. I found Angus at the store up the street, in a cage with his brother, who had more gray in his coat. I put my hand in the cage and decided on Angus because he approached me. Angus looks and acts like a Maine Coon, and we have long wondered if he is a purebred and was sold because he has a discoloration in one eye. Like the Maine Coon, Angus likes water, and water pistol discipline has no effect on Angus’s behavior. Angus’s hobbies include lying in instrument cases, meowing at birds outside the front window, and lying on wool blankets atop outstretched legs. He loves tuning forks and runs from another room when I strike a fork, purring and arching his back as if it’s catnip. He even rubs his teeth against a vibrating fork.