Sometimes I think Rufus's sole purpose in life is to drive us crazy. He will ever-so-gently claw at our faces while we're sleeping. He will stand on the dresser and grab me when I walk by, effectively hooking a claw into my new sweater. If we are on the couch late at night and he wants to sleep there, he'll stomp around the house producing such ear-piercing meows in protest that our neighbors can probably hear him too. He only likes one type of cat food, and will throw up all others. Our bathroom has these weird non-locking doors, and if he sees you go in, he'll immediately rush over and pull the doors open, just because he can.
The thing that drives us the craziest is something he does exclusively in ungodly hours of the morning. He stands on the bed, on the tiptoes of his hind feet, and furiously rattles the nearby floor lamp back and forth as if he's the percussionist in a band. If that doesn't work, he knocks the alarm clock off the bedside table.
Every so often, he'll curl up on Stefan's chest if he's on the couch and purr up a storm. It's as if it has slipped his mind that he's supposed to be torturing us. For a brief moment, he's just a regular cat. He'll do that thing that cats do where they nudge their face against yours, a little gesture that I'm pretty sure means "hi, I love you, and aren't I cute?" until he's had enough of that, and then off he goes again.