Our house has cats, and all three delight in catnip, chin rubs, and murder. Two are around the nine year mark, and one of them is two. The two-year old had a playmate who was unfortunately lost, leaving him to torment the remaining two who are the human-equivalent of fifty. This weekend my wife and I decided to rectify this situation and get the youngest a playmate (which he desperately needs). Ergo:
He does not have a name yet, but he seems like he’ll be a good fit. At eight months old, he is full of energy so my hope is the two younger ones will blow off steam together – however, this latest addition seems to have a respiratory situation going on, so he’s in quarantine until we get him checked out. This means I am doing duty with him nights and am getting a very small sampling of what it must be like to have a baby, at least insofar as the thing seems to sleep for two hours, bounce off the walls for one, then sleep for two, and so on until morning. I suspect his cuteness is an evolved survival mechanism, as despite the sleep deprivation I find it difficult to get too mad at him.
From his performance in tracking the laser pointer I can already tell he will be an efficient killer, like his playmate. Spring is coming, and I’ve put a dollar down he will register his first kill while there is still snow on the ground…
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yup…pretty much like a newborn, except no diaper changes, or feedings…but yah…pretty much like a newborn.
He is really cute!
I have a dog. She doesn’t bring me “gifts.” Rather she licks herself during the most inappropriate times. They sure are different, dogs & kitties.