She’s some kind of Siamese-y mix, with blue eyes, a bit of an elongated moose-face, and a lotta meows. Her purr machine is dialed up to 11 if you even think of looking in her direction.
Sometimes she and Rocket are like this:
But most of the time it is a tussling rumpus over here.
Which means our plan was a rousing success! Instead of biting people toes and and hands and faces, now Rocket has a little friend to bite instead! It’s kind of like that movie in which some parents have a new baby specifically so that it can be a donor for older-sister-cancer-girl.
Six weeks since we decided to let an animal come live in our apartment with us.
He decided to tell me about his obsession with nursing on the very first night. Although I will not let him suck on my ear lobe, lip, or in the crook of my neck (which would be his preferences), he will gladly suckle away on my hand. I sleep a lot less than I used to.
He’s a bit bigger. Looks more like a tiny cat than a kitten.
Sometimes our quality time involves cuddling. More often than not, though, it involves biting and shouting.
Please note the bottles that are tipped over in the background.
Also, please note that this plant is now outside of the apartment building, as I don’t think it can bear to be wrestled with by a clawed, fanged little monster any further.
The vet and the interwebs have suggested that a second kitten might help to divert some of the evil. More fun to bite someone of the same species. So that could be happening on Sunday. Or we could just be escalating the lunacy exponentially, and you shall never hear from me again, because cats will never not be walking on my head.