This is Trout.
Trout, we believe, is a Maine Coon. We do not know this for certain, since we got the Trout at a shelter in Lancaster, PA, but he certainly seems rather Maine Coonish to us. And if you look at the picture on that site, you will also notice a striking resemblance.
Note the size of Trout.
Somewhere behind him is one of those big printer/scanner/copier things.
He fits the breed description quite well in terms of appearance. He is a "muscular, big-boned cat; males commonly reach 13 to 18 pounds, with females normally weighing about 9 to 12 pounds. Add to that two or three inches of winter coat, and people will swear that they're looking at one big cat."
And, personality-wise, he mostly fits the standard. He is "people-oriented." He likes to "hang-out and investigat[e] whatever activity you're involved in and 'helping' when they can."
However, this bit is a load of crap, when it comes to the Trout: "Most Maine Coons will stay close by, probably occupying the chair next to yours instead [of your lap]."
Here is why I can't get anything done at the computer anymore, now that he has realized that the house is cold and the computer is warm.
Underneath Trout's head is my mouse hand. Underneath Trout's body is the rest of my laptop. A typical morning goes like this.
"Yes, Trout, you're very sweet."
*Thud* (the *thud* is me plunking the Trout onto the floor.)
"No, really, Trout, I need this."
"Cat. Stop it."
"I'm going to make you into a rug."
Now image 15 minutes of this, with me flinging and Trout immediately jumping back up. Cats. What a fine idea.