My cat is a big beautiful orange medium hair, maybe part Maine Coone cat. She weighs 20 pounds! Everyone who ever sees her is taken aback and says how beautiful and BIG she is. She is only 3 years old and still acts like a kitten at times. My big lovable baby can't get enough love, pets and grooming one minute and pounces and attacks me the next. She bites my ankles and feet while chasing me around my apartment. She can open cabinets to knock her treats out or has even opened the freezer and knocked the ice cream (her favorite thing!) out onto the floor in the middle of the night. I love her antics and all. She brightens my life with her inquisitive playful ways and constant chirping sounds. She rolls over and holds paws for treats. She loves to play with my grandchildren and talks to them on the phone. My 13 year old grandson says she isn't a cat, she's a flerken!(See Captain Marvel's big orange cat). When my roommate died of lung cancer 18 months ago she helped me take care of him so I could get rest. She watched over him constantly and would alert me whenever he stirred and needed my attention during the last days of his life. He wanted her with him until the end even when the priest gave him last rites. She hissed at the priest for sprinkling water on her friend who wasn't feeling well. I could see the laughter in my friend's eyes when she did that but even then he wouldn't let me take her away. (I was afraid the priest was going to exorcise her!) She comforted him with her warmth and gentle purring. When he took his last breath, she left his side and slept and barely ate for a week. She was mourning his passing. She is my angel and is always with me when I'm sick and need to have extra love. I was very sick earlier this year and I think if she hadn't woken me when my breathing wasn't normal and my heart rate was in severe a-fib, I might have died. She saved my life that night. Vivian is my angel and a gift from God.