As I mentioned this weekend, Victor gave me an adorable and emotionally unbalanced rescue kitten for our anniversary. I can only imagine that this kitten was originally given up because he likes to pretend that he’s drunk, and when he gets really into it he thinks he’s some kind of deadly karate master, and he starts kicking inanimate (or invisible) objects as if they have personally offended him. Not even a joke, people.
I think there might be something wrong with him. So far, in every picture he looks either passed out or belligerent and possibly high. And that’s exactly how he came up with his own name.
Introducing…Hunter S. Thomcat: