Sox, the bathroom cat.

This is Sox.  He is our orange tabby cat.  He is, I figure, approximately 104 years old.  Seriously - I can't even remember not having him.  He is a peculiar little cat.  First of all, he's not little - he's rather portly due to his appetite and his sloth-like level of activity.  

About six months ago, Sox decided to move downstairs.  He's spent the last few years living on the second floor with the kids.  Apparently he liked having a warm body to cuddle with that wasn't also attached to a dog.  But for whatever reason, Sox decided he wanted to hangout in the bathroom.  I don't mind having him there - he's safe from the dogs, I can easily see if he's a little low on his Kit & Kaboodle cat food (anything else makes him puke). I do have to admit that it's a bit disconcerting to make a midnight trip to the bathroom and have a large cat jump on my lap when I'm not expecting it.  

He likes to sit on the side of the tub.  He sleeps on the tub rim in between the shower curtain and the liner.  whenever anyone comes in to the bathroom, he jumps down, meows, and stares at his cat dish. It doesn't matter if both water and food are filled to the brim - you have to at least pretend you are filling them up or he won't leave you alone.  Our bathroom isn't that large and sometimes having to dance around the ginormous Sox if I'm in a hurry is a bit dangerous.  

Aside from having to step around Sox' girth from time to time, it isn't really too bad having a bathroom that does double duty as a cathouse. And for Sox, it is extremely convenient: he never has to worry about his cat food or water dipping below the half way mark.