“Are you ready for someone both exotic and exquisite? Great – because you’re about to meet that fellow – Me – Simba, Jr. I’ve got a lion name, so you know what that means. I’m working on growing up to be a lion – and doing pretty well so far. Yes, I’m Simba, Jr., which, I think, means I’m the son of Simba and, therefore, the grandson of the now famous and adopted Mufasa. Are you impressed?”

“Well, OK, how about this? Take a close look at me. At first, you’re thinking, ‘Uh, huh, yet another wild-mannered orange tabby….’ Ah, but those are not stripes. Not stripes at all. Someone called me a “marble tabby”, but I know better. My markings are the secret signs of ancient and powerful Celtic priestesses. Make sure you observe the distinct cross on my back – and the spirals on my sides. There is power in this cat.”

“Who else am I? I am, first, of course, Simba, Jr. – orange, very orange. I am strong and big and friendly, and I miss nothing. I walk across a room, and I see all, know all, am all. I sail about the room. I am a guy’s guy. I am also handsome. Yes.”

“What am I looking for? The same thing any self-respecting lion looks for – an antelope – preferably a kudu – the kind with the curly horns. Hang the curly horns on the wall of my Cat Man Cave – stunning.”

“Oh, wait, I’m supposed to whisper sweet nothings, tell you how loving and friendly I am, aren’t I? I’m all that, of course I am. Pet my sacred markings and feel peace, power, and love surround you. Forget that stuff about mounting kudu horns in my Cat Man Cave. I didn’t say that. No, I didn’t. Just stop on over to Feline Rescue with your $120, and adopt me. I promise a huge cat hug. If you’re good at deciphering codes, you can read my back and write Dan Brown’s next novel for him. Mrroww! I am Simba, Jr.”