Spent all of Saturday evening hanging out with the kitten, now officially (more or less) named Malcolm (Mac), who is basically the chillest little dude cat I’ve ever known. Sure, he is not fond of things like nose-blowing, big trucks rolling by, or anyone walking directly towards him suddenly, but most of the time, he just rolls with the punches.
Even though he is stripey, polydactyl, and snuggly, don’t think that he is Hamish reincarnated. Yet. He isn’t as keen on sleeping on or near-and-touching people, rarely naps for more than twenty minutes at a time if the humans are up (kitten Hamish would disappear for six hours for a good snooze), and often wakes to make a sad mrrp sound and jump at your head to make kissyfaces at you before stumbling off for Kitten Business. He also watches tv, and seems especially interested in ocean noises (I was watching ‘Broadchurch’). Hamish gave no shits about the television box 99.9% of the time.
Gah. So cute. I can’t stand it. Maybe I will find yet another lame excuse to visit today. Saturday’s was supposed to be ‘checking in’ while R. was at work, but I stayed 4+ hours. How could I not?