Before I became a proud owner of a Siamese cat, I often found myself answering a curious question: “Why would a girl like you be so fond of Siamese cats?” It always astounded me that some people couldn’t see the charm in these feline wonders. Sure, my Siamese has darkened over time, almost turning into a “coal ball,” but it remains a mischievous and enchanting little spirit, full of surprises at every turn.
As soon as the American Shorthair stepped into my home, it scurried behind the sofa, cowering in fear. It remained there, a bundle of nerves, flinching at every little sound, like a perpetually startled creature. In stark contrast, my Siamese has been fearless since it was a kitten. I’ve taken it to all sorts of places, from bustling parks to crowded pet stores, and it has always embraced new environments with open paws. Its curiosity knows no bounds. It struts around with confidence, exploring every corner, and welcomes affection from anyone who reaches out. There’s no hiding or shying away; it’s as if it thrives on the attention and the thrill of new experiences.
My Siamese is also a master of being both clingy and mischievous. It’s like a little “troublemaker” that can’t resist getting involved in everything I do.
And when I’m using the toilet, it jumps onto my lap, making itself comfortable as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. It adores snuggling under the covers, and I vividly remember one time when I was away for two days. As soon as I returned home, it clung to my arm and purred itself to sleep, not moving an inch throughout the night, as if making up for the time we’d been apart. However, come summer, its true “colors” show. Suddenly afraid of the heat, it abandons our cozy bed and chooses to sleep on the windowsill, making me feel a bit used, but I can’t help but smile at its fickleness.
The physical differences between my Siamese and the American Shorthair are equally remarkable. Standing next to the American Shorthair, my Siamese looks like a slender, elegant model. With its long, lean body and graceful legs, it could easily be called the “long – legged heartthrob” of the feline world. Despite its lack of plumpness, it has a solid, muscular build that gives it a surprising weight. Holding it in my arms, I often wonder if the American Shorthair is made of “plastic,” as it feels so much lighter and more delicate in comparison. It’s as if my Siamese is a well – trained athlete, while the American Shorthair is a dainty little doll.
I still make sure to double – lock the door every time I leave the house, half – jokingly worried that one day, my “silly son” might suddenly have an epiphany and learn how to open the door.
Even at three years old, equivalent to a 20 – year – old human, my Siamese’s curiosity and energy levels remain off the charts. While the other two cats in the house are often content to lounge around, doing nothing all day, my Siamese engages in “crazy sprints” around the house, turning our home into its personal fitness arena. Whether it’s a morning jog, an afternoon workout, or an evening exercise session, it’s always on the move. I often tease it, saying that I was much more composed at 20 than it is. But in truth, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Its boundless energy, unique personality, and unwavering spirit make it the most precious companion, and I feel incredibly lucky to have such an extraordinary feline by my side.
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