He was a cat of mystery, of intrigue, of quantum uncertainty. He was always there, yet never there. You could see him, but not really.
Schrödinger was a cat of many lives. He had a catnip-filled life, a mouse-filled life, and a life where the catnip was also filled with mice. He was the ultimate feline paradox.
He would often appear and disappear at random, leaving behind only a trail of cat hair and the faint scent of Schrödinger-ness.
You can read more about Schrödinger's lives at:
Schrödinger was a master of superposition. He could be in the fridge, and in the bed, at the same time. It was a skill he honed to perfection.
Schrödinger was also a master of entanglement. He was always connected to the laser pointer, even when it was on the other side of the room.