First off, It has a name. I'm just a neurotic kitty mama who wants to photograph him in his dashing collar and name tag to properly announce it. I can hear you from here - I know, I know. Groan. It's totally a huge build up for what's sure to be a big let down.
In the meantime, I'll tide you over with It's incredible love of our refrigerator. He knows exactly what's in there - yummy goodness of all sorts. Jean Valjean would have been an apropos name for him. I was eating a chicken burrito the other day and when I turned to grab my drink, I saw him out of my peripheral vision take a piece of chicken piece right off the burrito in my hand. He's a stinker.
He's particularly happy if I'm retrieving the second half of his Fancy Feast Turkey Kitten Formula can (Groan - yes I feed the kitten Fancy Feast! Where do I turn in my sane person card? This kitty lovin', it's an illness y'all!). And just to give you a little taste of our morning routine now:
For those who care more about our house endeavors, you can see peeks at our kitchen. For those who care about my fashion sense, you can see me rocking sweat pant pajamas (which I'm putting in as exhibit A for evidence why I think San Francisco is COLD). And for those of you who care about my sanity, you'll notice that at the end, I tell It that we have to open a new can when there's a can clearly on the top shelf. It's really cute though. I'm going to miss his kitten squeaks when he grows up enough to meow. Seriously, I just got a lump in my throat thinking about him growing up. I'm gonna be a mess when it's a real child (someday in the very distant future).