Welcome home, Cuddly friend.

Recently le Boyfriend and I adopted a cat/borderline kitten from the Humane Society in Charlottetown. He was just a day shy of six months old when we adopted him and cats under 6 mos are considered to still be kittens. However, he weighed over 8 lbs at the last point they had weighed him at the Humane Society, so he isn't kitten-ish in the sense you sometimes grunt with surprise at his weight when you pick him up.

"My physique is purr-fect."

After le Boyfriend and I tried to come up with a name for Cuddly Creature, I now realize why humans have gestation periods of around nine months: to give adequate time to choose a name (and to allot for adequate time for the fetus to properly develop into a mini person, I suppose). So far, not-so-wee kitty has had the following names:

1. I forget the first one, it started with zed. Ziko? It didn't really work because I could never remember it.
2. The Red Baron. Dropped because it's hard to call for your cat when his name starts with 'the'. "Here, The Red Baron! Come here!". Although it does do well for other things, "The Red Baron scratched me pretty good."
3. Klaus: The Red Baron. Dropped because Boyfriend got tired of it and people looked confused when I told him Kitty's name. However, this helped Kitty develop a hilarious Arnold Schwarteneger like accent when we pretended to speak for him. "Mummykins, the zoo called and they want their lion back."   See? Read it in an over-the-top Austrian accent and pretend it's being said by a giant, smug, orange kitten. It becomes HILARIOUS.
4. Wylie. Dropped because I never called him that anyway and Boyfriend kept calling him Willie.
5. Willie. Changed because of too many penis comments.
6. Michu. Still his current name. Success!

Bath tub = Excellent hiding
place for hunting

Despite all this, mostly I call him Little Bear or Beast. Or, usually when returning home after work and finding things out of place or partially destroyed, Destructive Kitty. In a related note, if you come to our apartment and can't find the toilet paper, it's in the cupboard above the toilet where wee paws are less tempted to unroll the entire thing.

And now, some kind words about the Humane Society. Erin, the (I think) adoption counselor, was super nice on the phone when I chatted to her initially about adopting "Butterscotch". I submitted my online application shortly after and she called me back within a couple of hours. Le Kitty was mine! This was on a Friday, and we had an appointment to pick him up the following Tuesday. This gave us some time to purchase supplies and kitten-proof our apartment. On Saturday, I went into the Humane Society to play with "Butterscotch" and determined he was The World's Greatest Kitty. How lucky were we?! Note: I may had been biased due to new-family-member excitement. I also felt guilty for not adopting all of the cats, particularly one that I had played with a couple of weeks prior. Luckily she's adopted now, so kitty high five to her. Phew.

When le Boyfriend and I picked up Michu, Erin gave us lots of information and told us he had a "kitty cold" at one point while in the shelter and that it might flair up again.

Indeed it did.

After a few days of excessive cat sneezes, low energy, etc., I called the Humane Society and they told me to stop in and gave me a bottle of lysine to mix with his food and help the symptoms. It did help, but not quite enough. Another few days later, Michu and I made a return visit to the Humane Society and the vet there gave us antibiotics to destroy his kitty cold, which was possibly feline herpes. Apparently not uncommon when you gave a bunch of cats living in a cages in a smallish space. While this all sucked, it could had been much worse and the staff at the Humane Society were wonderfully helpful. Now Michu is a ball of destructive energy, enjoys running fast, hiding and then attacking from the bath tub, and playing with his toys. Unfortunately his new energy dictates occasional midnight play sessions and pestering for someone to get up early in the morning for snuggles or playtime.

Michu's Online Dating Profile Pic:
Sensual and Sophisticated

If wee Michu had an online dating profile, interests would read:

• Putting my paw in my water bowl and dripping the water all over the floor. Nickname: Moby Dick.
• Sometimes walking in the poop in my litter box, great fun for making footprints on the floor, toilet, and in the bath tub!
• Miscalculating my own speed and colliding into things.
• Hiding in the bath tub when stalking my pray.
• Trying to eat with my hands, which is difficult and results in a lot of food on the floor. 
• Very imaginative when it comes to finding new toys: toilet paper, socks, pineapples, shoe insoles, etc.
• Excessive onion chopping in the kitchen makes my eyes water and my lady owner freak out and wonder why I'm crying and sick again.

Sadly for Michu, the Humane Society chopped off his balls so he doesn't have a lot of interest in dating.

(Additional thumbs up for the Humane Society: adoption fee includes various shots, neutering, a bag of food, a can of food, and an awesome mouse toy that your cat will love and lose at least once per day.)

Wait - did I just become a person who wrote an entire blog post about her cat?

Yes, yes I did. One, because he's awesome, and two, if you're looking for a furry family addition, I would highly recommend adopting a cat from the Humane Society. Meow.

Toilet Paper is Hard
When You Don't Have Thumbs

PS: Happy birthday to my lovely brother!