Finger puppets. Nightlight. Crooked candlesticks. Bananas that are at the perfect stage of (over)ripeness. Blue and blue. And  a cat.

I haven’t quite figured out this cat. He lives at my folks house, but I lose track…does he belong to my brother? My dad? The dogs?

In truth, Ming the Merciless belongs to no one. Ming answers to no one but Ming.

Middle of a conversation? No problem. What conversation is not enhanced by Ming butt in your face?

Middle of a meal? Ain’t no Ming got time for that. It’s flop-across-your-chicken-parmigiana-sandwich-and-chips time.

Don’t want him on your lap? That’s not up to you. The Ming abides.

He is not shy. He loves attention. He doesn’t ask for attention, he commands attention. And once you relent and offer hand in friendship? A scratch behind the ears, a rub on the belly?

He bites you. Mercilessly.