So, partner and I have three (yes, you saw that right, THREE) cats.  I’m going to introduce them now because it is likely that I will talk about them lots.  They have real names, but that’s not what we refer to them as.  We call them The Cat, The Kitten, and The Fluffy.

img_4562The Cat

So this one is our eldest.  She will be 5 years old on Boxing Day (2016).  She’s a blue-grey russian, domestic short haired female cat.  She is a sooky bitch (and I say this with love).

And she is lovely.  Just, you know, when she feels like it.  She is terrified of new people.  She won’t come near you unless you’ve been in the house for about 4 days.  She snores like … I don’t know … like a small truck driver?  And she malts all over the place and can climb like a ninja.

The Cat is addicted to bleach, toothpaste, hair elastics, and lap snuggles.  But she will only share a lap with The Kitten (she hates The Fluffy).

The Kitten

img_3402This one is our middle child.  The reason we have rules in the house.  And our ‘prettiest’ cat.  She is a black, domestic short haired female.  She turned 3 in August 2016.

The kitten hates everyone, with the exception of my partner and I.  She has no fear, will take on dogs five times bigger than her, but she’s not up for cuddles unless (again) it’s on her terms.

She is a total scab when it comes to food and will literally try to take the food from your mouth if you let her.  She also REALLY likes water.  She will try and get in the sink, the bath and the shower, and will chew through water bottles if you leave them out.

img_5443The Fluffy

The Fluffy is an idiot.  He is the baby and only boy (cat) of the house.  He was 1 in June 2016 and still very much a kitty.  He is a black medium-length haired domestic boy.

He also has no idea what ‘personal space’ or ‘boundaries’ are.  And I don’t just mean he doesn’t like to be left alone.  No, The Fluffy is not happy unless he is attempting to claw his way into your skin to become one with you.

He sleeps either curled into my armpit or pushed against my face.  He used to sleep across my neck, so I guess we’ve had some improvement?

Fluffy’s favourite thing in life is paper.  You cannot leave anything lying around because he will eat it (or tear it to shreds and leave it around the house).  Bills, magazines, junk mail, newspapers, you name it – it’s gone when you get home.

He is yet to figure out how to retract him claws, and will cry if he gets stuck in places.  But he’s pretty adorable and my little snuggle bum.

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