He was by my side (well, on the floor) later this morning. He's gotten pretty good about putting up with me working without bugging me to play every five minutes.
Now? On the kitchen tile floor going "It's hot. Man it's hot..."
Oh yeah, he BIG. He weighs 13-14 pounds. Twice the size of my previous tiny bunny kitty. It's hard to get used to. I'm still trying to figure out the right amount to feed him after a YEAR with him! I keep thinking "it's too much" then "it's too little" then "he's getting fat" then "but he's still hungry" ...
Jones would be a good name for him if I hadn't already told the vet he was Mr Mrow (I had to come up with something. I'd've contentedly left him without a formal name if it hadn't been for the vet).
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Now? On the kitchen tile floor going "It's hot. Man it's hot..."
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