This is by Sailor Jim Johnston on alt.callahans.

Sailor Jim is lying back on his sofa, bemused and chuckling softly to himself.

I’ve written about the kittens Dian and I are raising, the Thanksgiving twins. Filbert and Timmy, to be precise. Every morning, I awake to find them nestled up against my back. Then I head into the kitchen for a cuppa and they follow, purring and softly meowing for attention. Then, coffee cup in hand, I head for the sofa to read and wake up.

These two teenage cats believe that I am, to be kind, their daddy … I did, after all, sit up at night and nurse them (and no cracks, please … fathers also nurse infants) … so they swarm up onto the sofa and present themselves for petting. Timmy, who is bonding with Dian, simply curls up next to my thigh while I stroke his back and face, but Fil, who has determined that I am his people, alpines up my chest to perch on my right shoulder and bump heads with me. Then, when I say ‘Hi, Fil,’ he immediately stretches out to his full length, placing his front paws on my head for balance and presents his full length for petting. While he was a kitten, he merely reached up to my head. Now he towers above me by a good six inches.

This morning was the same as all the rest (wake up, coffee, ‘Hi, Fil’ and petting his upright body), but it suddenly dawned on me that Fil might actually be proving that he IS my ‘child!’

He starts every day by making a terrible pun and that’s better than any DNA test in the world!!

SJ

(Going back to his laptop, he pauses when he notices the blank stares. “Ah c’mon!” he gently chides, a twisted gleam in his eyes. “Surely you’ve all heard of the Hi, Fil tower!”)