Goldie has the most in-your-face personality of any cat I've ever had. She is ridiculously vocal; even her purrs are almost deafening. She's even noisy in her sleep. When I adopted her, less than a year old, she had spotty stripes and bright cantaloupe orange eyes; as she's matured, her eyes have become a pale jade green. She's a drama queen who demands constant attention, and will make your life miserable if you refuse to bow to her every whim. When she wants her food bin filled or her water changed, she will seek us out, put herself at eye level, ie, in front of the TV or computer, fix us with a pointed glare, then purposefully bat things to the floor until we hup-to. She's prone to binge-eating to the point of vomiting, and needs a twelve-step program for catnip. Despite her many faults, she's very affectionate and sweet, and surprisingly patient with Skidd's aggressiveness--even after he's chewed on her all day, she's only too happy to cuddle with him. Though she was initially very hostile to Baxter, they eventually became completely inseparable; after he died suddenly, she spent weeks wandering our home searching for him, crying for him, and pawing at the spot on the couch where he'd last lain. Her first name is a reference to her golden ginger fur; her full name, only used when she's in trouble, helps diffuse my temper. Seriously, how can you say that name, which rhymes with "Goldie Locks," and still be mad? ;)
