Solomon

Solomon is a gray, almost charcoal-gray cat, skinny with long legs.  As a matter of fact, I'm typing his autobiography with him draped across my shoulders.

Although he was the first of the four to come to me, Solomon is rather timid.  He normally comes screaming to me to pick him up and was actually a pretty big baby when he was outside.  He was also curious and constantly checking things out.

One of his favorite things to do as a baby was to climb onto the roof from one of the trees growing between the buildings.  From atop the roof, he could have a ringside seat on a skylight so he could peer down at occupants who appeared to be staring at him in disbelief.  Everyone soon got used to it.  The first time it happened to me I wondered to myself whether fire departments really came to get cats down.  By the time I got outside, Solomon was waiting on the deck for me so I didn't have to find out.

Solomon also has no trouble figuring things out.  He has learned to flush the toilet, and he also can turn toys on.  I can live without the sound of a toy going on and off at 4 a.m.

Solomon doesn't like rain, and if he gets caught in it, he expects you to be waiting with his personal towel sent by an admirer.

He is now much quieter.  Usually.