Flash The Cat

My friend put it very well--we are indeed "harboring" a cat. Well, actually it is not really an adult cat, but not a cute little kitten either. Nick and I decided that Flash is a cat teenager. He arrived on Saturday night, and he will leave tomorrow night.

In the evenings, he runs circles around the living room--we attribute it to too much energy and sheer boredom. I wish you could sign cats up for marathons--Flash is definitely champion material. He talks non-stop--actually, it sounds more like wailing. We are trying to teach him not to jump onto the kitchen counters, but we haven't been particularly successful.

When the little black fur ball stops dashing across the room, it climbs into my lap. An open laptop already sitting on my lap is not an obstacle. Actually, Flash enjoys sitting on top of my laptop when it is not in use--Nick thinks it is because it's warm. A few scratches under the chin and behind the ears, and the big yellow eyes look up at me, and purring grows noticeably louder resembling a small tractor.