James, my 5 month old kitten, has turned into a puma. He's enormous and manly now, swaggering through the house like he should be wearing a wife beater undershirt and drinking a beer.
He was chewing on an electrical cord the other day, so I picked him up to say a very emphatic NO to him. His ears flattened sideways and he just glared at me, defiantly trying to get away.
He used to hang his little head in shame when he'd get in trouble. Ha!
Last night as I was asleep, he casually walked over my face during his nightly bed patrol. He just doesn't understand who provides the kibble in this house.
He's teething on the edges of my coffee table, like a dog.
Last night he stood up on the couch on his hind legs, trying to reach the shadows on the ceiling cast by flickering candles. He stayed there for several moments, perfectly upright. It was scary.
If there was kitten kindergarten, I'd enroll him. He's getting a lot of attitude.
Just when I am ready to turn him into a yard cat, he reverts to kittenhood, curls up in a not so tiny ball and purrs himself to sleep.
I just weighed him. Twelve pounds seems a bit much for a 5 month old, but he's all muscle. His big brother Bart only weighs a few more pounds, and he's huge.
Bart's just about had it with the baby. I haven't got the heart to tell him James is only half grown...