Look at the cutie that mom found last night, seemingly abandoned, and brought home.
It's probably a she, her arch enemy is her tail, unless she spots a pen or a bag strap and she snores a little at night (provided she managed to fall asleep); my hands are once again scratched artfully and my keyboard occasionally trodden on. The tiny devil fits into one of my palms without much trouble and has successfully embarrassed two of our grown-up cats; one still refuses to come close to her, hissing from afar. She's also a little attention whoredrama queen, crying loud when there's nobody in a room and harassing human feet if she is not paid attention to.
That makes three cats in the household, which proves that I am genetically pre-programmed to be a weird old single lady with seventy cats. :D
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