My fourteen-year-old Whitechin wandered off in August. He rarely left our apartment and when he did, it was in the form of a devious escape.
At the height of his best years, he weighed over 20 pounds and could easily jump to the top of a six to seven foot fence from a crouched stance on the ground. Anytime some one laid on the floor to watch television or do yoga or cut construction paper for school projects, it was his cue to circle around and head butt other foreheads with his own triangular wedgehead. He could butt hard enough to cause a headache and he took great feline pleasure in the skill.