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Mr. Humphries
I'm not quite sure where I should begin. Very well... I was born in July of 2012 to my wonderful mother (a calico if you will) and an undetermined father (perhaps a variation of Maine Coon, hence my elongated stature and wild follicles underneath). My human adopted me from my prior beachside residence under the impression I was a female - how wrong he was, the chap. Without so much as a name for weeks, a doctor determined that I was healthily developing in the nether regions and advised that I be neutered, much to my chagrin. On the day of my clipping, I was christened Mr. Humphries - named after a bloke from some British comedy in the '70s. Why do people always insist that I be free? My interests include heightened levels of rest, perpetual satiation, and a fresh wash straight from the dryer. With much gratitude to the advent of social media, my human believes me to be a model of sorts, solely for the amusement of strangers world over. If you must browse, my portfurlio is below... |
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