I dropped hints.
But there was nothing under the Christmas Tree this year meowing at me.
Nothing soft and warm and cuddly waiting for me to gather it up in my arms and snuggle it.
No good can come of this.
They are drop dead gorgeous, though...and personality plus. And they chew furniture.
They also love the water. They jump in the shower with their people.
(NOBODY gets in the shower with me.)
After some thought, I'm sure I'd end up with a psychotic man-eater...and while that would be awesome if I could train it to kill on demand...I can't have it in the house with The Things. And me.
This, it should go without saying, would be the cat The Big Guy would concede to having.
The one I would be locked in my bedroom, hiding from.