Mossimo

So I temporarily lost my sanity and sense of good judgment and forgot my sworn oath that I wouldn't getting any more pets while my kids were little, and we got a kitty a while ago. I apparently learned nothing from Lola our basset hound we had for about a year, but had to watch closer than my children because she was constantly getting into trouble, stealing my kids food, shedding on my couches, making my back yard uninhabitable and ruining my floor. Did I learn my lesson with my guinea pigs, when Felix got really sick, two vet bills later, a month of syringe feeding, two different sets of antibiotics, one of which I HAD TO INJECT MYSELF, as well as having to personally inject him with IV fluids twice a day, all of which happened WITH A NEWBORN BABY! And then he ended up dying anyway, and I felt guilty because it was such a blessed relief. No, apparently I am one incredibly stupid sucker for a cute animal.

Though Mossimo is one really cute animal, he is however, one very strange cat. He isn't overly tempted by opening cans of tuna as is every other cat in the known universe, but will jump up on the counter to filch CORNMEAL PANCAKES! ..or brownies, or jam sandwiches, or cake, or toast or anything else that every other cat would never look twice at. I've also learned from a rather unfortunate experience you can't turn your back on a uncovered wedge of brie.

Mossimo does have traits normally associated with cats too. He is very playful, and has some rather hilarious antics. He likes to stalk and pounce on Max and sometimes Sohvi. Sort of the whole Hobbes effect. It would be a lot funnier if it didn't involve claws. He loved climbing our Christmas tree and swiping at the ornaments from a different vantage point. Between Lucy and Mossimo, the tree was constantly in pretty sad shape.

His biggest redeeming quality though is his inherent need for cuddling. Not necessarily being petted, he just needs a warm lap. Even if that lap belongs to a kid. But he also loves to cuddle me at night. Not curled up docilely at the foot of my bed, he prefers to be under the covers if I let him. Weirdo.

I'll show him though.. in the immortal words of Jack Sparrow, "eunichy snip-snip". Meanwhile, I'm not going within 100 yards of a pet store anywhere. Only the vet.