Haaaa Shooo Meow.

There's a common question my husband and I encounter.  

In small talk, we're often asked, "How's Lord Byron?"  

Lord Byron (バイロン) is our cat.  My husband picked him up from the animal shelter on base.  He was chosen because my husband liked how ornery he was, and he liked his character.  First his name was "Grandpa Cat" (which apparently equates grumpiness).  So when we were brainstorming names for our cat, we were trying to think of names our grandpas might have, names from an older generation.  I think we even googled "old man names."  Henry, Harold, Alfred, Ralph, Seymour, Stanley, Howard.  Nothing sat right.  Until we hit Byron.  My husband jumped on the idea of Lord Byron because of his love for poetry.  Yes, really.

Lord Byron is loud.  And large.  He's about 15.5 pounds and expresses himself through voice.  How poetic.  If he is meowing loudly in the stairwell (for echoed amplification), you know he's feeling neglected.  If he greets you with a airy rasp, you know he's just woken up.  If he's incessant and direct, you know he wants to be cuddled.  Now.  And if he's moaning, you know he's encountered a stray cat in our yard and will not tolerate.  Those times are always fun.

meooooooow

I've never been much of a cat lady, but I sure am now.  I don't know how to express this without being utterly cheesy, but he's been a great blessing to me.  We live the Navy life, i.e., long work days and a good dose of separation.  We are forward deployed, so deployments can be sporadic and plentiful.  I have been blessed with friends who fill the gap, yes, but Byron really keeps me company at home.  He talks back.  He demands cuddle time.  And he's good at it; I melt every time.  He's full of energy and spunk and is altogether entertaining.  My house is in no way empty when my husband is gone.  Because Byron fills it with his booming man cat voice.  And though it can get on my very last nerve, I think it's one of those things that will get me by.