Skip to content


Giz is my favorite cat. Oh, you’re not support to have favorites, they say. They say a lot of things.

He’s a sphinx, so right off the bat, he has that going for him. How can you not love a sphinx? They practically scream “Natures greatest mistake”. Even people who say they love cats sometimes are repelled by sphinxes. Too bad for them, they are terrific cats.

I wouldn’t call them the sharpest knives in the drawer, though very few cats impress me on their cognitive skills. Maybe Japanese Bobtails, who seem to be more trainable than most breeds. I’m not sure how one even measures cat intelligence. Every breeder tells you that their cat breed has “above average intelligence” which is just mathematically impossible. Ok, Main Coon breeders don’t bother with that lie, since a Main Coon just sits there and stares at you like The Big Leboski. Then again, dogs show off how smart they are and end up in a rainy field herding sheep while there masters sip hot chocolate in front of a warm fire, so what does intelligence get you? Hell, maybe the cats have figured that out and decided to act dumb so we would wait on them hand and foot, so you tell me who’s the genius here?

Anyway, Gizzy was our replacement for the late Ziggy, when that sweet soul passed from FIP. He immediately filled our hearts with his extreme derpiness. If I could get him to perform on command, I’d be fabulously wealthy, but by the time the camera is out, he has assumed a normal posture. He’s best when startled, which can be from sudden noises, sudden movement, or sudden absolutely nothing at all. Then his eyes go impossibly wide, his mouth twists open and does this thing where the back half of his body tries to outrace the front half and I defy anyone not to laugh out loud.

He’s a glutton. You have to watch him during feeding time, because he will eat his own plate, the one with the most food, and then go after the other plates abandoned by cats who do not act like this is the last meal they will ever see. Then he barfs it up. This is a raw mix so you can well imagine how much fun that is to clean up.

But he also purrs like a buzzsaw and the sound is not muffled by fur, so there’s no missing it. At night, he sleeps beneath the cover by my feet. A sphinx is like having a hot water bottle made from rich Corinthian leather pressed up against you so it’s great in the winter and you just have to tolerate it in the summer.

As is not uncommon in the breed, he has a heart condition but my wife is religious when it comes to giving them medication, so his out look is good. Should I develop serious medical issues, I will still live a full life, assuming she teds to me as well as she does toward the cats, though this is far from certain.