Yes, after a hiatus, this little feature is back! This time, we kept our trophy close to home. This month, we’ll be awarding our greatest prize to our own Jen Childs’s cat, Gunther!
Gunther (named for the Swedish musician/club owner/model Mats “Gunther” Söderlund) has had quite a life, starting out as a young, curious, troublemaking rogue here in NYC and eventually moving out to Connecticut, where he first developed his taste for fried chicken and millipedes. The living is fine in the suburbs, I hear. The rodents are smaller than he is.
Over the past few years, he’s really settled down. He’s been able to relax in luxury and strip his life of its complications (like staying awake). Occasionally, he’ll get outside and walk on his leash for a little bit, or maybe go for a drive, but he mostly just eats and naps these days.
That is, he naps when he’s not hiding from Jen’s rough-and-tumble two-year-old, who charges around the house in his undershorts calling him “Ga-Ga” and occasionally flinging foam-core ballistics.
It’s a right-of-passage, in a way, for a cat: the tolerance of the toddler. Gunther, no doubt, will emerge a stronger person. Cat. I mean cat.