Not Just Cats, Either

From a web tutorial on taking photos of cats.

There are four sorts of cats:
* Friendly cats, that want to achieve maximum transfer of fur to your clothing.
* Scaredy cats, that have a zone of tolerance and as soon as you enter, they run away.
* Indifferent cats, that have seen it all before and are not interested in you right now.
* Hungry cats, tend to want your attention a whole lot more than normal. Note: this is a temporary state.

There are many more kinds of cats than this. Actually, one of the things that always amazes me is how similar each of us is to our individual cats.

Michele's Little Bit wants nothing more than to be in someone's lap, being petted, and happy in the knowledge that a pinned-down human cannot possibly go anywhere or do anything. She wants her people *right there* and *paying attention* to her. Though Michele herself doesn't wander around the house meowing when she isn't getting her share of attention, she is fundamentally happiest when she has her family snuggled around her.

Sonja's Ivan is easily the most beautiful of all the cats, sleek and elegant and always soooo well-dressed. Though he's taking a little time to relax and get comfy with everyone, he is at heart very affectionate. Especially at night. I have never understood why he gets jumpy in the daytime but is perfectly happy to be petted after dark. Sonja is basically a warm and playful person, though she can withdraw when she's startled. And she has the best sense of style of us all.

Gabriel, Spawn of Satan, AKA Fuzzbucket, is considerably more elegant than I am, but we're both essentially wild animals who come in sometimes for food and petting. Not that she permits much petting of herself; she'd much rather lick and groom the person she has chosen to sit down on. When she's done, she lets you know with a brief valedictory bite. We both need a *lot* of space, but we can be cozy, too. At least I don't stroll around on the tops of eight-foot bookshelves, though I've always loved high places best.

Paul's late cats — Simon and Sinbad — were both very like him in different ways. Simon was cool, calm, and massive — one of the least excitable animals I have ever seen. Sinbad was clearly a scientist, constantly doing experiments in gravity, the breakability of glass, and the spill patterns of liquids. The results had to be reproducible, too. He used to get up on top of the fridge and carefully nudge things off with his paw to see if they would really fall this time. What better cat for a chemist?