Clovis was a shelter kitten. I adopted him in May, 1997, along with his foster-brother Furrfu. They aren't littermates, but were in the same cage at the shelter and have always gotten along well.

I picked out Clovis at the shelter because he was unusual looking and had a self-assured and rather arrogant air about him. He's clever, bold, and inclined to mischief; he loves to pounce on the other cats when they least expect it, and is fond of rough games of wrestling and tag. This has caused a few problems when he picks on the cats who don't tolerate that sort of thing very well, but most of the time now he plays with the ones whose tastes match his own.

When not roughhousing with other cats, Clovis enjoys playing with toys, in particular his pipe cleaners. I buy them in various thicknesses for the cats to play with, and Clovis "catches" them and carries them around the house, yowling loudly to announce his kill, especially late at night when I'm trying to sleep.

Clovis remains close to Furrfu, who has a much milder nature and patiently tolerates being pinned down and forcibly washed. The two of them often curl up together. Clovis has also shown an unexpected flair for playing "nanny" to kittens; he adopted Scaramouche, Anzu, and Beorn in turn, washing and playing with them, and just generally taking charge of their upbringing.