The Week in Review ...

It's been a week now since I got my new kitten and, if it means scratches, lack of sleep, constant worrying at work if I'm gonna arrive home to spilled lamps and clawed furniture, always shouting "NO!", having to lock myself in the bedroom in order to get a little privacy, and squeezing through a small gap in the front door whenever I enter or leave the house, then things are as blissful as can be.

I exaggerate. We're bonding. In fact, we've bonded almost immediately that first night when, after his exploration of the house, he hopped up on the sofa and curled up in the crook of my arm and fell asleep. Strange things have been happening though and I had to look through a couple of web sites to realize that he's still in the "socializing" stage of his kittenhood. Strangest of all is waking up to a strange sensation every morning as he wakes me by sucking on my earlobe, or sticking his nose in my face and licking my goatee. At least his morning antics have subsided to a more tender annoyance. That first morning freaked me out...

Sound asleep, I am slowly being awakened by the soft footfalls of La Tigre (I'm still in the naming stage, trying to find one that fits his personality--right now it's Rroid, since he's a pain in my ass). He walks across the pillow, delicately stepping on my cheek, leaning down to sniff my ear and tickle my face with his whiskers. I groan and roll over, trying to escape his pre-dawn activities. I sense him stepping off of the pillow and I think (oh so erroneously) he's curling up to continue sleeping. I like to sleep in the nude (or used to). I have a little patch of hair at the base of my back. As I drift back into a deep slumber, I'm suddenly startled into consciousness when the cat decides that 5am is the perfect time to attack! In he goes, needlelike kitten claws grabbing onto the hair and yanking, bared teeth chomping down and pulling, me jumping out of bed and giving what would become the first of many painful screams. I flip on the light, my hand reaching behind and rubbing the delicate patch, my eyes adjusting, half expecting to see a ball of hair dangling from the clenched jaws of the devil himself.

He stares up at me, belly to the mattress, ears back...and then meows softly, his eyes as big as Puss n' Boots in Shrek 2. My heart opens as the anger of being suddenly and shockingly awakened drains from me. "Awwwwwwwwwww." I coo, as I crawl back into bed and curl up under the blanket. I glance at the clock and mumble about the hour before closing my eyes. Within seconds I feel a gnawing on my fingertips. I pull my hand away. The cat darts across the mattress and attacks my hand. I shove it under the pillow. He claws his way into the linen cave and claws at the exposed skin. "STOP!" I yell.

I've quickly come to realize that "STOP" in kitty language is translated into "Yes, little one, I love playtime at five in the morning."