What would you say if I told you we have the feline equivalent of Tom Jones here at Tabby’s Place?

Actually, we have more than one of them. Seriously. It’s not unusual.

They come in all sizes, these hyperconfident loverboys. It’s not the size of the cat in the swagger, it’s the size of the swagger in the cat.

Never is this more evident than in Basil. With a perpetually food-smeared face and Einstein-y fuzz jutting in all directions, he is just under two pounds of pure, unadulterated confidence. It would be cockiness if it weren’t so awesome. The way this kitten runs around – and runs the kitten room – you just know he’s expecting the female kittens to start throwing flowers and love letters and underpants at him. (I don’t have the heart to tell him that Sol, Martina, Macaroon and Reba aren’t impressed…and that they don’t wear pants of any kind.) Like his soul brother Tom Jones, Basil flaunts the Union Jack, too. His name isn’t Bay-zill like the herb – it’s Baaaah-zil like the Rathbone. But this is a Brit in the lineage of Mick and Tom, not the Queen Mum.

Swagger. You know it when you see it.

Or hear it, as the case may be. Our loudest cat, Hawkeye, has so much swagger that he’s now training his own protege. You’d think a cat who weighs barely six pounds and has lived at Tabby’s Place for under a year would be laying low, reviewing the situation, planning his long-term approach to life in this wild world. Not Hawkeye. Just a few months into his endless summer of love, he’s training young Nimbus to yell, yowl, and fight the hand that pills him. Nimbus’ own swaggericiousness has exploded in the few short weeks he’s lived with Hawkeye…and he’s even begun to take on his mentor’s weirdly hunched “Halloween cat” posture. It’s like looking at Mick Jagger and Steven Tyler.

Then again, swagger doesn’t always roar. Just take big, giant Trooper. By the sheer force of his size (18,000 pounds at last weigh-in. No, I made that up. 17,998), he makes Suite FIV shake like a jellyfish on a fault line. Factor in the fact that he breaks the black-white-and-grey streak in the suite, and this orange crush is ostentatious to say the least. He’s still learning to inhabit his hugeness; truth be told, Trooper is still a bit of a big giant weenie. (His first visit to the solarium resulted in moon-sized fear-eyes and repeated darts in and out of the igloos – I’m terrified! But it’s awesome! But it’s scary! But I love it! Mommieeeee!!!) But he’s a weenie with swagger – even if he doesn’t know it yet. And each time lovely, bat-poop-crazy Twix darts by, the look of love is in Trooper’s eyes. You can read his thoughts: She’s a lady! And I’m terrified! But it’s awesome!

So, with all apologies to the swaggering Welshman, at Tabby’s Place we’ll reserve our affections for the lotharios who come with whiskers and tails. Boys, we can’t stop loving you…almost as much as you love your hot selves. 😉

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