NIKOLAI

I AM NIKOLAI. I am a 6-month-old Russian Blue gentleman, and I have been told that I am exceptionally handsome. I do not like to brag. But I am also told that my fur is buttery soft—like the richest velvet—so perhaps a little bragging is justified. And then there is my purr. Deep. Rumbling. Magnificent. It is the sort of purr that says: “Yes, you may continue petting me.” Actually... Please continue petting me.<br/><br/>I have a very interesting story. I was living on a property with more than 15 other cats. A kind person was feeding us, but nobody was getting fixed, so our little group became a very large group. Eventually, our feeder decided it was time for Trap-Neuter-Return. And that is how I ended up arriving at a spay-neuter clinic...IN A TRAP.<br/><br/>Now, perhaps when you hear that a cat arrived in a trap, you imagine a wild, frightened creature who wants absolutely nothing to do with people. But I have always been a bit of a...Russian lover. <br/><br/>The moment the volunteers started paying attention to me, I decided to show them exactly who I was. I rolled onto my back. I made biscuits in the air. I purred.<br/>I stretched. I soaked up the attention. And I may or may not have dramatically melted into their hands.<br/><br/>The volunteers looked at one another. I could practically hear them thinking: “We cannot put this boy back.” And honestly? I agreed. Because I am not a feral cat.<br/>I am a lover. A sophisticated Russian gentleman who appreciates the finer things in life: A soft bed, A warm lap, A gentle hand, Someone who appreciates a magnificent purr, And perhaps a little admiration for my extraordinarily handsome face<br/><br/>And speaking of the finer things...Have you ever had a Napoleon cake? Layers of delicate pastry and rich cream. Sweet. Luxurious. Irresistible. That is what the humans say I am: Sweet as a Napoleon cake.<br/><br/>Although I think they are forgetting one important thing. Napoleon cake does not purr. I DO. And my fur? Buttery soft. Like the richest velvet.<br/><br/>So if you are looking for a handsome Russian gentleman with a heart full of affection, a purr that could rival a small engine and enough sweetness to qualify as dessert...<br/><br/>I believe we should meet.<br/><br/>I have already been:<br/><br/> Neutered<br/> Fully vaccinated<br/> Treated for fleas & other parasites<br/> Microchipped<br/> Tested negative for FeLV/FIV<br/><br/>I have done my part. Now I am looking for someone who will do theirs. Take me home. I promise to provide:<br/> Russian charm<br/> Excellent biscuit making<br/> A magnificent purr<br/> Velvet-soft cuddles<br/> And an unreasonable amount of love<br/><br/>And perhaps, if you are very lucky... I will roll onto my back and make biscuits in the air for you. It is a very exclusive performance.<br/><br/>Until we meet.<br/><br/>NIKOLAI, Russian gentleman. Professional lover. Velvet-coated cuddle expert. Napoleon-cake enthusiast. Looking for my forever human.

I AM NIKOLAI. I am a 6-month-old Russian Blue gentleman, and I have been told that I am exceptionally handsome. I do not like to brag. But I am also told that my fur is buttery soft—like the richest velvet—so perhaps a little bragging is justified. And then there is my purr. Deep. Rumbling. Magnificent. It is the sort of purr that says: “Yes, you may continue petting me.” Actually... Please continue petting me.

I have a very interesting story. I was living on a property with more than 15 other cats. A kind person was feeding us, but nobody was getting fixed, so our little group became a very large group. Eventually, our feeder decided it was time for Trap-Neuter-Return. And that is how I ended up arriving at a spay-neuter clinic...IN A TRAP.

Now, perhaps when you hear that a cat arrived in a trap, you imagine a wild, frightened creature who wants absolutely nothing to do with people. But I have always been a bit of a...Russian lover.

The moment the volunteers started paying attention to

I AM NIKOLAI. I am a 6-month-old Russian Blue gentleman, and I have been told that I am exceptionally handsome. I do not like to brag. But I am also told that my fur is buttery soft—like the richest velvet—so perhaps a little bragging is justified. And then there is my purr. Deep. Rumbling. Magnificent. It is the sort of purr that says: “Yes, you may continue petting me.” Actually... Please continue petting me.

I have a very interesting story. I was living on a property with more than 15 other cats. A kind person was feeding us, but nobody was getting fixed, so our little group became a very large group. Eventually, our feeder decided it was time for Trap-Neuter-Return. And that is how I ended up arriving at a spay-neuter clinic...IN A TRAP.

Now, perhaps when you hear that a cat arrived in a trap, you imagine a wild, frightened creature who wants absolutely nothing to do with people. But I have always been a bit of a...Russian lover.

The moment the volunteers started paying attention to me, I decided to show them exactly who I was. I rolled onto my back. I made biscuits in the air. I purred.
I stretched. I soaked up the attention. And I may or may not have dramatically melted into their hands.

The volunteers looked at one another. I could practically hear them thinking: “We cannot put this boy back.” And honestly? I agreed. Because I am not a feral cat.