Silly Catface!

My brother moved to NYC last week and I acquired about 20 paintings, 5 boxes of books, some tools, and a cat. Yes, I am a sucker and yes, loving your family can get you into trouble.

I am a cat person, but I did not go right out and get one when I moved. I think that I fear permanence. No matter, a free cat with all related accessories is a welcome addition to my, well, kind of lonely apartment. For the first day or so she was completely horrible, hissing and swatting at me whenever we were in the same room. I gave her a pretty sweet set up in my bathroom and bedroom. I bought her treats and toys. I really wanted to win her over. Turns out all she needed was time. Just last night she emerged from her fortress in the bathroom and slept on the bed. I was quite happy.

My brother cannot be trusted to name pets. To my knowledge he has named three cats. “Little Cat” who was, consequently, little, “Fatty McBlack” who, surprisingly, was fat and black, but not Scottish. And, now I have “Kitty” who is, in fact, a kitty.
I suppose that I’m going to stick with this highly original name. I could change it, but she has been Kitty for so long it would have to be something that started with a hard “K” sound. Kindle, Crackhead, Kickboxer, Kit-Kat, are a few possibilities.
I am partial to calling her Catface after the Weebls-Stuff cartoon of the same name. She looks quite a bit like the cartoon, and as it spends most of it’s time lighting shopkeepers on fire, stealing grannies, and insulting humans, I think it’s a good fit. “You are very funny, you talk and all I hear is silliness.” it quips in a French accent. So, in my mind, Kitty is French and very strange indeed.