Meet Larry: The Self-Styled "Divo"
We have three rescue cats. Tippy is the ex-barn cat with a titanium leg and a chip on his shoulder. Jasper is the gentle giant, built like a furry rugby forward and so large that phone apps mistake him for a Labrador.
And then there’s Larry.
We got Larry from the rescue centre when he was a couple of months old. It was clear from the start that he was... different. Larry is, for lack of a better term, a self-styled "Divo." His entire existence is a performance, and we are merely the audience.
It’s not just an attitude; it’s physical. He struts about the house like he’s on a Milan catwalk, pretending to be far too sophisticated to engage in the nonsense of lesser beings (i.e., us and the other cats).
When he lies down, he doesn't just flop, he arranges himself. His legs and paws are placed "just so." When he rests his head on his paws, it’s as if he’s posing for a photo shoot, head tilted, eyes looking just past the camera. He never, ever looks awkward. Tippy, by contrast, can fall off a chair while sitting still. Larry could be in the middle of a full-body wash and he'd still look like he was on the cover of Vogue.
But for all his sophisticated airs, the Divo has one major weakness: he will sell his soul for what we call "smooths" (a good petting).
This is where he really differs from the others. It took months for Tippy and Jasper, both semi-feral, to even figure out how to purr. Larry starts purring if you just look at him from across the room. He is a machine of instant, roaring affection, on his terms, of course. He'll stroll over, give you a look, and you know you're expected to provide the requisite adoration.
His sense of ownership is absolute. Larry is the kind of cat who "claims things." It could be a tea towel, a freshly folded jumper, or, as in the photo evidence below, a packet of popcorn. You put it down, and he will lie or sit on it. It becomes his, and he is profoundly offended when you try to reclaim what is rightfully his.
Furthermore, he serves as our resident art critic. If an object on a shelf, windowsill, or kitchen worktop doesn't meet his exacting aesthetic standards, or if he simply decides it doesn't belong, he will calmly push it off. He is the final arbiter of feng shui in this house.
But is he just a pampered, territorial model? No. He's also either the bravest or the stupidest cat we own.
We live on the side of a mountain, and loud noises are common. A passing noisy motorbike or a farmer's tractor will send Jasper and Tippy bolting for the bedroom to hide under the bed.
Larry? Larry stands up, gives a put-upon sigh as if personally insulted by the racket, and calmly walks towards the disturbance to see "what's up." He's utterly unflappable. He just seems offended that someone is making a noise in his valley.
This Divo status is recognised by the other cats. Jasper, in particular, adores Larry (just as he adores Tippy) and will often follow him around, probably hoping some of the sophistication will rub off. But Larry has no time for a fawning audience. Now and again, he’ll get thoroughly pissed off with Jasper’s boundless enthusiasm and just give him a quick, sharp slap to the head.
It's the classic 'don't touch the talent' move. He's the star of this show, and he makes sure none of us, cats or humans, ever forget it.