I give you Maya, AKA The Shmoo, in her natural habitat - the laundry pile.
Maya is the Queen Bitch of the family. Completely deaf, she still knows when you're talking about her - she's that good. She is who she is and does what she wants when she wants to do it, and if you try to stop her, she'll knock over your fragile goods in the middle of the night. Fortunately, what she's wanted to do most for the past several months is snuggle with us in the bed, which we love. Usually she squeezes between Mrs. Nator & I or on the other side of me up by my head, resulting in everyone waking up with hairballs and me looking like I've gone prematurely grey. If we're very good, she will give us ear baths while purring.
Maya is generally somewhat aloof with strangers in person but had her own popular advice column when I was doing professional Animal Communication (she still gets emails and gifts from admirers). She loves to travel, so she tends to pull the "I've-gone-feral-thanks-to-your-abandoning-me" routine and hide under the bed when we're away, leading the petsitter to first feel rejected, then wonder how she's going to explain to us that our cat must have escaped. Of course, it may just be that Maya runs under there and rolls in the dust when she feels the vibrations of us coming up the stairs, then emerges, play-acting all dazed and traumatized for about a half an hour so we feel guilty. She is a strange and manipulative beast, and we'd put nothing past her.
All hail Queen Maya! I'm gonna miss the little fucker.