9 months old, altered female calico! So for all of you who followed my rant on getting a pet, here's the fruit of my hard work! And as I have correctly foreseen, who cares what you officially name a cat; as of now, the proper name to call her is my baby.
I have to admit, the shelter people tricked me though. This is no adult cat. Matisse is technically no longer a kitten anymore and is way past her hyperactive stage, but I cannot say she is fully adult. For one thing, she is way to affectionate to be fully adult. I had to give up reading the Wall Street Journal this morning because she sat on the paper and refused to move! She absolutely loves being petted, but she kneads when she pets--which is cute of course, but her claws are too sharp. I should ask the vet to trim them for me when I take her today.
The shelter I went to adopt her tells the potential adopter why the animal was given up by the previous owner. For Matisse, she was given up because she was "too loud." She really does have this giant purr, but other then that, she was actually much too quiet for my comfort that I had to tie a bell around her neck. The problem was, she kept purring next to my bed whenever I tried to go to sleep but was too scared to climb up onto the bed. Last night I finally turned on the lights, picked her up, and propped her on my bed... where she curled up next to my feet and went to sleep quietly.
The next morning, however, I woke up, forgot I had the cat, was sitting up with no lights on. The cat of course could see through the dark and saw that I was up, starting brushing on my legs. I was so startled that I jolted my leg back, and this offended Matisse so much that she hided under the bed all morning until I brought her water and breakfast.
I mean, how cute is that.
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