Cats... the good, the bad, and the cute

We 'rescued' a cat a few months ago. I use the term rescue loosely because I think he picked us our of all the houses in the neighborhood and we didn't really have a choice in the matter.

One morning as I went outside to start my truck to let it warm up I heard soft meowing coming from underneath Trisha's car. I peeked underneath and saw him, barely old enough to be away from his mother, looking back at me with bright eyes. I couldn't convince get my hands on him, so I went inside to get some help. Melissa came out with me and by the time we got back outside he had moved from under the car to a new hiding place behind our garbage can. Melissa grabbed him quickly and we brought him inside.

He was dirty, smelly, and flea infested. He was also the cutest gray tabby we'd ever seen. We washed him, took him to the vet and loved him. Melissa named him Tiger. The name may seem uninspired... until you meet him. His attack is vicious and I have the scars to prove it. I jokingly call him Demon Kitty, and most people agree that it's pretty accurate after they meet him. He's been destructive like all kittens and refuses to leave our dog Boots alone. Boots tolerates him well and watching them play fight is very entertaining unless it's three in the morning.

Tiger is now about three months old, and is starting to calm down just a bit. We're waiting for the day that he can go in for his surgery to remove his boy bits. I hope that will calm him down even more. He can be the sweetest kitten you've ever met, but those moments don't last long and I'm looking forward to the day that those moments are longer and more frequent.