My daughters call him Shop Towel (father of Tissue, Drier Sheet and all the other white and greys…), but I still call him Sadface.

This is why.

You know it’s hot and muggy out when this guy just watches me suspiciously as I take his picture, instead of running away. I was about 10 feet or so away from him when I took this photo, and that’s the closest I’ve ever been to him. He stayed there, even as I went passed him several times while I was working.

Gosh, he looks rough. That wound on his forehead looks pretty fresh. The problem is, he’s usually the one starting the fights! I really wish he weren’t so … well.. feral, and aggressive about claiming his territory (and his harem!). Of all the toms that had been visiting us in our early years here, he’s the only one left.

I want to hug him, and chase him away, at the same time. Our baby boys from last year are reaching full maturity, which means competition, and he’s probably going to start going after them, too.

*sigh*