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Elvis’s Story: Elvis began his life in Deerfield, MA, born in the home of a kind gentleman who bred his Siamese cats from time to time. I was living on my own in an apartment in Rhode Island, when I decided it was time to bring a cat into my life. I was a young single woman, after all. And so, my sister and I braved a snowstorm to drive up to Massachusetts and select a kitten. Elvis was one of three; a brother who sang while perched on a shelf, a sister courageous enough to try and play with the fire in the wood stove… And a quiet kitten who had hid and bit everyone that had come to look at the litter before we had arrived.  However, strangely enough, he seemed to like me from the start. As the gentleman told us how the little kitten had run from everyone who came into the house, baby Elvis looked up at me with big blue eyes and touched my face with his paw. “Oh, we’ll take him,” I said as he fell asleep on my shoulder.

Elvis grew into a strong, intelligent Siamese; fiercely loyal and protective. He guarded me in my sleep. He guarded me on the couch. He accompanied me into the kitchen. He walked me up the stairs. He patrolled the apartment 2-3 times an hour. While he liked most women, he did not trust my male friends. And he certainly did not approve of anyone I dated.

That is until the Man (my husband Ryan) entered our lives. I took Elvis’ willingness to fall asleep on his chest as one of many signs that he belonged. When he asked me to move 3000 miles west to live in Seattle with him, there was no question that Elvis would be coming too. And so, Elvis and I packed up our apartment and hit the road with the Man.

At first, of course, Elvis did not like the car, but after a couple of days he became quite the little traveler’s kitty. He waited patiently for pit stops to use his box and take in treats and water. He walked on a leash and harness and slept in hotel beds. Still, he was as happy as we were to finally arrive in Seattle and settle into a new apartment. A year later Puck came to live with us, and the next year Lupin joined the family!

Elvis’s Personality: If you know Elvis well, he is a sweet, affectionate, deeply loving cat. However, if you are a newcomer to our home he is suspicious, cautious, and ready to intervene should you try to do anything crazy like open the fridge for a can of cola. He can be quick to judge, quick to panic, and quick to act. (Elvis spends a lot of house parties in a quiet room with food, water, and a litter box). No one is allowed to pick Elvis up or pet him, besides my sister, the Man, and myself. We have friends that he does (tentatively) trust, but they pet him with the understanding that he may strike at any moment.

Despite this, Elvis is fantastic with other cats, (especially kittens) and very patient with children and babies. He won’t let guests use most of the kitchen, but our infant son may drape socks across his back endlessly. I swear, he’s a good cat. His intelligence is sometimes challenging, as there is not a drawer or cupboard he cannot open, and he gets furious whenever we bring out suitcases for vacations. In real life, Elvis is not fooled by “the Mysterious red dot”, and will walk up to whomever is holding the laser pointer and try to hit it out of their hands. He is very funny, and it’s always a surprise to see what he picks up on.

A typical day for Elvis: Elvis is all about routine. He wakes us up for food, he marches us out to the kitchen, he finds us at dinner time, and he urges us to bed at night with head bumps, meows, and pacing from the living room to the bedroom until we clumsy people catch on. After breakfast every morning, Elvis crawls under the bed sheets and turns himself around so his head is sticking out. He naps like that until about noon, when he follows me throughout the day and keeps me company as I care for our son, illustrate, and make dinner. He has a chair next to mine in my studio and is closely involved with everything I do. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Likes: Wrestling, being sung to, Christmas, whipped cream, strawberry cheesecake ice cream.

Dislikes: The Man, men in general, anyone with a beard, house guests, outdoor cats peering into windows.

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Investigating new sheets.

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Elvis routinely sleeps under the covers with his head sticking out. He does it himself, without any cues or coaching from us. It’s adorable.

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Baby Elvis. (Don’t worry, he hated that sweatshirt).

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Elvis “guards” a lot. Here he is guarding our belongings before the move to Seattle.

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Little travel kitty, relaxing in a hotel room.

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Elvis guards pancakes. It’s a particular quirk of his, and one my friends hope makes an appearance in this comic. We don’t know if it’s the smell or their warmth, but he protects them until breakfast is served.

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He has the prettiest blue eyes.

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Elvis usually looks as though he is about to start a conversation.

Name Puck Name Lupin

Name Georgia

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