So this is Cole the Kitten.

The thing is, I’ve never really been a cat person. I’m more like the geeks on tv with the inhalers and the puffy eyes. Not like the ones that need to live in fear of peanuts or bees or sunlight or milk, thank god.
I’ve been responsible for the lives of kids like that in camp-type settings in the past. It’s terrifying every time it pops into your head that something could drop them dead at any second. But it’s not as terrifying as you’d think. Maybe I was just a bad councilor, or maybe my generation is already getting desensitized to this new brand of lurking possible death. Or maybe it’s because the feeling and idea of allergy was something I got used to early because, as I started out to say, I’ve always been really allergic to cats.

There are people who say they are allergic to cats; and they are, because they have a blowing the nose, a little itchy, kinda miserable, reaction. And I think I’m becoming one of those people. But I have been one of those people who gets eyes-closed, chin-puffy, gasping-and-choking-for-breath allergic, and that can put a damper on your kitten loving. I spent one luxurious half hour petting a puffy white cat once, when I was old enough to have known better, but decided a good idea would be to test the current state of my allergy. Spent the rest of that day shaking my head, feeling like an idiot, while I went through every kleenex box and roll of toilet paper in the house. So it was a surprise to find that I could play with and pet this kitten Cole, and as long as I kept washing my hands every 120 seconds I wouldn’t feel half bad. That may have been love motivated.

He’s ridiculous- sweet as hell, never takes his claws out on you when you play, but with no real sense of balance or ’safe’. He will try and jump down stairs, he will leap into a bowl six feet away on a ledge, he will attack the dog’s butt, or suddenly fly across the room onto the neck of the bitchy queen cat, who will then kick his impertinent little kitty ass. He’ll stand on his back legs and pant like a dog while you’re playing, and then, a half second later, you turn around, and he’ll be sitting upright on his ass with his paws out in the air, watching TV with my boyfriend’s arm around him. The cat doesn’t know what species he is, and my boyfriend’s got his arm around his shoulders like the cat’s his son. I think it’s hilarious, and great. We get some good bonding in, and leave the litterbox, and buying cat food, and you know, like, sweeping n’stuff to his mum. Go home to our human-messy apartment and leave food lying around, and go out of town with no notice, and stop blowing my face raw on toilet paper. Yeah. This cat I know is awesome (like other people’s kids), but I don’t yet want my own.