Some people never learn.
There was nothing shy about that grey tomcat of mine. If Clancy liked you, he'd let you know at once, and if he didn't like you, he'd let you know at once.
Clancy was a bloodsport type of cat. If no other cat or dog were available to pick on, he'd pick on me.
I was at my booth at a boat show in Maryland when another maritime carver came to visit. Lordan was the local "yaahd cavaah," as we'd describe it in New England.
All was well; it was spring in New England. Patience, abetted by some mumbling and stumbling, helped you get through.
My all too wise Canadian feral cat Clancy saw himself as a tough guy. Nothing much could get the better of the wily Ottawa born roustabout. Weighing in at about twenty pounds, he figured that he could easily punch above his class. He had successfully intimidated burglars, large german shepherds
Spinning the electorate is an old practice. Who'd have guessed it was invented by cats?
Lots of carvers have shop cats. They rule the shop from on high.