It’s difficult to write about Filou.
We met him with his human mom who is a pet photographer who has published quite some books about cats and his kitty mom. He was an only child, 8 weeks old, and started our acquaintance by chewing on our fingers and sitting on our back. He lost the first habit and followed the latter one until the day of his passing.
When Filou came to live with us he was 16 weeks old. His 13 weeks old adopted brother Tigris was already there- just for one day. While Tigris had spent the first afternoon in the transport box, just not wanting to get out, Filou jumped out of his box and within five minutes had been to every corner of the house and back again.
Filou and Tigris became friends (and were called “the Mongole hordes” or “the stampede”) and while, after the coming of age, their relation was not without tension they stayed friends until Tigris’ left much too early:


Filou was a prince- he just couldn’t move without grace. All his pictures show him so quiet but that is just because I couldn’t take pictures when he moved, fast as lightning.
Talk about light…ning: He loved the sun:





He loved his balcony garden and the flowers:





Being a prince, he made sure his subjects loved him- and how could they not:



He groomed his dad:


and followed us everywhere, especially in the kitchen where he ate Thai curry chicken, salmon, corn, olives, cooked potatoes, coconut milk, corn, avocados and milk chocolate if he could get it. I have never seen a kitty with such an appetite.