First, a candid shot to prove he really IS a cat:
This is how he spends most of his day. I envy the joy he gets from spreading out on a brick floor for 8 hours straight. Bastard.
Next, he's looking into your eyes and saying "what? huh? noms? belly scratch? Am I adorable enough?"
This is what I come home to each night. Yet mysteriously, I still come home each night. Mostly because at least one creature on this miserable planet is happy to see me just because I'm there, and not because I'm doing anything to benefit them.
saddest coup de grace, and most apt pose,
"Hey, where are you going? I'm cute! DAMMIT I AM SO F#%$ing CUTE!!! COME BACK!!!"
That's what I leave behind each morning going to work. It does remind me that I need to go to work in order to buy the kibble to feed Stupid the Cat, so that he doesn't have to go back out into the wild and try to capture his own food with his amazing skills of cute adorableness.