Tamerlane looking smug on the stairs.

I had wanted to name an animal Tamerlane for a long time, but strangely enough, it was Chris who suggested the name out of the blue.  Tamerlane was a 14th-century Mongol conqueror, but I first ran across the name years ago when reading about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.  Doyle had an enormous dog named Tamerlane, upon whom the dog in "The Hound of the Baskervilles" was based.
Other given names considered:  None.
*Fuzz*, *Fuzz-Beast*, Polar Beast - due to his vast quantities of fur.
June 1 (?), 1997
Large and solid. He is a handsome, impressive cat with very thick, long fur and marvelous whiskers.  Before he developed hyperthyroidism he weighed over 17 pounds (7.7 kg).  We were hoping he didn't gain ALL of it back since that was a bit on the heavy side, but he shot right up to over 19 pounds (8.6 kg). When we changed the way we feed our cats (read about that here), he went from 19 pounds, 3 ounces (8.7 kg) to 16 pounds, 10 ounces (7.5 kg). He still has a bit of weight to lose, but has made excellent progress.

In the past few years, his fur has been getting matted in places and he's a giant baby when it comes to letting us comb him or cut the mats out.  In the late spring, we give him a fresh start by getting him shaved.  He looks absolutely ridiculous (click here!) but seems very happy about it.

Chris's family had a magnificent white cat named Cleats who reminded me of Fuzz.  The two had the same build and type of fur.
High-pitched, sort of whiny, and not very loud, which sounds odd coming from such a big guy.  Except for the occasional whining fit, he doesn't meow often.  He had an incredibly loud meow when he was very little; in fact, that is what saved his life.
Purr:  Barely audible, but frequent.  He had a very loud purr when he was a baby, but grew out of it.
Biscuits:  He almost never makes biscuits.
One evening, a co-worker called me, all upset because she'd heard very loud meows coming from under her shed at home and upon investigation, had discovered an abandoned kitten.  The mother was nowhere in sight, there were no other kittens, and the little guy was obviously hungry.  She didn't know what to do with him, so I got in the car, met her in town, and took him.  I'd been vaguely expecting an eight or twelve week old kitten, but this little one was maybe 14 days old.  His eyes were barely open.  His lungs worked fine, though:  he yelled all the way home.
I sneaked him in to work the next day and fed him with a syringe.  He sucked so vigorously he pulled the plunger of the syringe down without me having to push it.  He was too little to eat by himself, though, and my husband and I both work full time, so we had to do something.  We found a lady who had a cat who'd just had kittens and tried to match him up with her, but she refused to accept him.   
Finally, a lovely lady who works for a no-kill cat shelter agreed to foster him until he could eat on his own.  She did a fine job, and he came to live with us permanently on July 4, quite able to suck down kitten formula and baby food on his own.  He then steadfastly refused to eat solid food until he was almost twelve weeks old.  This didn't seem to stunt his growth any.
Several days after the co-worker found Tamerlane, two more kittens showed up under the shed.  One of them didn't live long.  There never was any sign of the mother, who must have been trying to move the babies to a safe spot but was too ill or injured to properly care for them.
Easy-going, friendly, and affectionate with people-  though sometimes a bit on the psycho side.  Fuzz was outgoing and completely fearless as a kitten, but is more cautious as an adult.  He used to be awful about running out the door whenever he got the opportunity regardless of the weather.  He still does this on occasion...  Once when I ran outside to catch him, I came within an inch of stepping on this.
He likes the dogs, but has never been very popular with the other cats.
When he was younger, he enjoyed going for walks on his harness, but he's grown out of that now and just sticks to Supervised Outdoor Playtime in the yard.  He's unusually cautious about anything resembling a snake - including tree roots and garden hoses.  He doesn't mind being tickled or otherwise pestered, and spends an inordinate amount of time upside-down.  If he's sitting or lying down and we pet him, he usually flips onto his back, wanting us to rub his furry tummy.
Hyperthyroidism.  See details.
When Morgan died, there was initially some suspicion he might have died of FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitis), a fatal, contagious disease.  We tested all the surviving cats and were horrified when Fuzz's test came back positive.  His sibling who had died had also had symptoms that could have indicated FIP. 
Fuzz has since tested negative and has been free of illness.  Since the FIP test is notorious for producing false positives, that is evidently what happened in his case. 
Sitting in the yard, saying hi to the dogs, watching the gliders, playing tag with kittens, eating while lying down, and looking smug and fuzzy.
He was closest to Sasabe.  There was only a three-month age difference between Fuzz and Sasabe, so they were natural companions.  He liked Irene since he was a kitten, but for a long time, she couldn't stand him.  She changed her mind about him after Obsidian died and the two of them frequently curled up together.  He and Orion do not get along at all and Solentiname picks on him.  Why he lets her get away with it, we'll never know.
Yes, but for a good reason.  He didn't care about the vacuum at all until one day while Chris was vacuuming, he (Chris) picked up the tool chest to move it.  The latch gave way, and the thing swung open and hit poor Fuzz pretty hard.  There was no lasting physical damage, but he's been afraid of the vacuum ever since.