(He's the one in the back.)
He's cute, for sure, but he's also a wild thing. He is a total instigator when it comes to fighting with our dog, for example.
Together, they enjoy racing through the house, tumbling across the floor, and, of course, the time honored tradition of naughty punks everywhere- harassing cranky old ladies.
And do not get me started on the number of times he leaps out at us and catches us by surprise, to bite our toes or whatever else he can reach. He has officially hit what we in this house like to refer to as the "bad guy phase". He murders objects left on the floor, leaps out of the shadows to attack, rips his own kitten chow bag open, jumps onto the table, hops on computer keys, bites and scratches, wakes us up in the middle of the night and before our alarm goes off in the morning... everything you'd expect from a four month old cat. We sing to him the same song that we used to sing to our dearly departed Sammy cat, that we began singing to him right around the same age. "No one knows what it's like, to be the bad man..."
On the other hand, he jumps on the bed, runs up my chest, and "kisses" me on the face with his cute little kitty nose. He stretches his long skinny kitty belly out in front of the window to soak up the sun. He purrs and cuddles, and is the most fun our dog has had in his entire life. I, personally, am hopelessly in love with him. Of course, he knows this, which is why he plays hard to get. The Man likes him, but doesn't care much for kitty kisses and cuddles, so naturally, this happens:
(He's resting up, for more mischief later.)