Soooooooooo my sister gave us a kitten. As in she conned my mother into taking it. Knowing we'd all fall in love with it. I wanted no part in it. Of course now it's attached to me like an additional limb, literally. He climbs up my leg to sit on my lap and stare at me or climb up further to my shoulders and figures out how high he can jump or what he can jump to next. He's basically a 4 year old kid. 

       I did however save him from his original name. My mother wanted him "Mr. Banks." No. Anything beginning with "Mister" is ehhhh. I wanted Moe but my mother said he didn't seem like a Moe so she came home and said Max so max it is. I've introduced him to the hand. AKA running my hand around everywhere like a spider so he chases it around and he is madly in love. With everything. Mainly me. I think. He never stops. 

       The minute you pick him up from tearing one thing apart, he immediately directs his attention to whatever you placed him in front of. It could be the wall and he'd try to climb it. If he's incredibly interested in wherever you took him from, he WILL remember and immediately run back to whatever he was tearing apart until you distract him with something else and all but destroy and hide what it was he was tearing apart. The laundry basket, one of those mesh ones. Earbuds, wires, shirts, pants, tables, slippers, blankets, the bed, me, backpacks, shoes, did I mention me? He will physically jump straight into the air and climb up me starting at the knee. The few times I've let him actually continue, he's made it up. His claws aren't razors quite yet because he's small and he won't be able to do it forever (until he gets too big) so I think I might let him from time to time. 

      He also never calms down. He's 120% 103% of the time. He never tires and when he does it's not for long. My mother came in at midnight to pass him off to me as they could not sleep. I said fine, and not realizing kittens are a completely different ball game than grown cats, he kept me up all night. I was a bit peeved realizing there would be no end, but I had work off and I figured I'd try to tucker him out and also fuck with him by making him jump off my bed a few times. It's on the ground so not too high. He did eventually sleep a bit, not for long. 

         Max. Max. Max. What are we to do with you? He's finally for the first time today sitting in one place more than a few seconds. On my lap. Still searching for his next adventure. He'll be climbing, no, jumping, he can jump already quite a ways, and if not, climb his way up easily. He'll be getting into something soon enough. Actually, as I type this, he's already on the window sill discovering his surroundings. I always loved that part about getting a new animal. Mainly a cat because they can climb just about anywhere. The phase where they're still discovering every nook and cranny in the whole household and beyond. Soon in a matter of short years, he'll be grown and lying around for hours on end finding that patch of sun. But for now, he discovers and learns and is wide-eyed at me and the world. I'll enjoy it. He's discovering my laptop as I type. Perhaps i'll let him type a blog post and see what comes of it. Probably better than anything I'll ever write. 

          Here's to the next 20 years crossing fingers and claws. Viva La Max.