They do. It’s just a true fact.

So why is the “young Mr. Grey” the fourth and final of the Jersey boys to await his forever home?

These days, everything from snack chips to school supplies to adult diapers are marketed as “extreme”…but are adopters perhaps unable to handle Barry’s extreeeeme level of cuteness?

Or maybe it’s the fact that the human beans here at Tabby’s Place have put an invisible-but-effective stamp on Barry’s forehead, reading NOT AVAILABLE.

Nooooo…we would never do anything like that. But - hypothetically speaking, of course - you couldn’t blame us if we did. I mean, just look at him.

And Barry’s looks are only a fraction of the story. With his personality, he could look like a potato covered in fur and he’d still be irresistible.

You could think of Barry as the Billy Mays of Tabby’s Place cats. He does everything in a big way, and there’s something utterly convincing about all of his ideas.

When Barry lopes over to the cat tree, for instance, he makes darn well sure he’s got an audience. No quiet “cat-like” motions for him. Everything about his outsized posture and  shouts the equivalent of, “I’M WALKING TO THE CAT TREE AND IT IS BOTH AMAZINGLY FANTASTIC AND FANTASTICALLY AMAZING!!! IT’S MADE OF SISAL AND CARPET AND 100% REAL GENUINE CARDBOARD!!! SCRATCH THE CAT TREE IN THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES, AND I’LL THROW IN TWO HEAD-BUTTS ABSOLUTELY FREE!!!”

But that’s not all.

Our slate-gray showman’s enjoyment of life is so supersized that his feline roomies can’t help but catch the enthusiasm. On a recent visit by some adopters, Barry was initially the only cat with any interest in their wand toy. In all honesty, if I were a feline, I don’t think this wand toy would have appealed to me. At the end of a relatively-short line was a large and clunky plastic blob. If my brain was the size of a kumquat*, I’d be pretty concerned about that blob making contact with my little head. And so, wisely, were most of the Suite B cats.

Never one to let fear or sanity get in his way of a good time, good-time guy Barry lunged after the blob - over and over and over again.

Before long, his living advertisement had worked its magic on everyone from Luciano to Trifle, and the big scary blob was the hottest thing in Suite B. You could almost hear shy Strudel’s timid talk turning into a confident, Barry-inspired shout, “THIS IS THE BEST TOY EVER MADE IN THE WHOLE WIDE UNIVERSE OR ANY OTHER UNIVERSE!!!” In fact, I’ll bet that you want a blob of your own now. And if you call Barry in the next ten minutes, he’ll throw in himself.

So, I ask again: why is he still waiting for someone to place that order?

I can only believe there’s a very special, very exuberant Mr. or Mrs. Barry out there - and when they see this great grey limited-time offer, they’ll act without delay. You’ll be the first to know.

*This is not a comment on feline intelligence. I’m convinced that, in many cases, God packs much more into those kumquat-sized brains than our own.

Tags: barry, cape may cats, luciano, strudel, trifle

---