He's a tortoise.
He was born in 2005 but he won't die until the late 22nd century, when I'm almost 200 years old. By that time, he'll be 2 feet in diameter and weigh over 100 pounds. Right now, though, he's about 2 inches across and I can hold him in a spoon. I put him on a 3 foot-long table today and he started running and got to the edge of the table after 40 seconds. Then the idiot walked off the table but luckily I was there to catch him. He can't climb. He can't bite. He can't scratch. He's slow as shit. He's dumb as nails. But I like him through and through. He demolishes my slinky as my new favorite toy. He and I make a great team. With him in my breast pocket, no one can stop us.
He says very little.