He was my grumpy old man. He didn't like being handled because he had been abused. But he could talk and did talk when appropriate. He was so funny. If my son sneezed, Footie would sneeze. If Andrew blew his nose, Footie would blow his nose. He never did find it necessary to cough. If you had a cold footie would sympathize. He liked peanut butter toast. When I had that for breakfast so did Footie. The house is so quiet without his 2 cents worth. I miss him.