What can I tell you about Mr. Bell? He was one of my oldest friends. I adopted him because out of all the cats at the shelter, he was the one who seemed to have the most hope, determination, and conviction that no way in hell was he getting stuck in there. No how. Every time my father and I passed by his kennel, he would reach out a long white leg to bat us. Message received.
Mr. Bell was very opinionated and very Republican. He made his indignation about any and all offenses crystal clear; offenses such as failing to feed him what he wanted, not moving when he required your spot on the bed, using the keyboard when he needed to sit on it.
He liked to sleep in drawers and nudge in where he wasn’t authorized to be and make a nuisance of himself, but he also loved squirming his way as close as possible and curling up, purring contentedly to himself unless, of course, you dared to shift your weight. He was stubborn to the last, and Loki and I will be lost without him.