Sonny is coming up on five months. My niece was visiting and offered that he’s might have some Maine Coon cat in him. He is very lean, very fast, very kinetic, very friendly, and he can climb stuff like a monkey. I mean: he can hoist himself where there’s no place to leap to. Although he is outnumbered by his much older lady roommates, he has established himself in the two spot, of four spots, in the pecking order, on most given days.
Filed under cats
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Sonny, named after Sonny Rollins, joins our feline brood, Sassy (after Sarah Vaughan,) Glori (after Gloria Steinem,) and the inimitable stray who showed up last June, Kizzy, aka Kismet, aka The Kizzinator.)
Glori
Sassy
Kizzy
Sonny
Did you hear about the one where you take your pair of year-plus-old cats for their vaccinations and one of the aids at the vet office pulls a five week old kitten out of the wastebasket?
Where did you get the cute kittens? (There were two.)
Oh, somebody left a box with three of ’em by one of the cars in our parking lot out front.
Hey, another really good exemplification of the resolution of precise actuality from the collapse of contingent facts–only needing my assent to our promotion of pinkish furball to our domestic legion.
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