I have a new roommate for a few weeks (my first roommate moved home at the end of her school year, and now a friend has come to stay before her big move to OR, then I’ll be here for 6 more weeks before I head off to IL). She moved in on Friday while I was at work. When I got home I asked her how the babies had been. She said “They were all fine. Pretty much just slept. Except for that crazy striped one”. I laughed, mostly because Bivel IS the crazy striped one I’d just never heard anyone else say that.
Bivel is not my cat. I have been kitty-sitting for my brother while he is in Iraq. Now while my brother’s cats are not teeny kittens they are still about 1.5 years and that crazy striped one is just about a year old now.
Anyone who has ever lived with a kitten knows that “crazy” is no exaggeration for their behavior. This little kitten flies all around my house at all hours of the day, makes the most bizarre noises from his little throat and insists on attacking my feet while I sleep.
He has recently found a toy my cat had long since lost under the furniture (but with moving we found said toy). It is basically a ball of colored foil that is light enough to easily be carried in his mouth anywhere he pleases. Well, he pleases to carry it up next to my EAR at 4:30 in the morning and crinkle, crinkle, crinkle it causing me to leap out of my skin. It was a good three nights in a row. Grrr. I think he learned after those three nights that crinkling in Auntie’s ear in the middle of the night is what gets him thrown in kitty jail. Ugh.
With all that said, he does sweet things. My favorite is when he crawls up in my bed to cuddle and bunches up the blankets, squeezes under my chin and nurses on the bunched up blankets. So sweet.
