The littlest menace.

I came across this picture of Oliver when he first came to live with our son. So sweet looking, so adorable…so hyperactive. Most kittens have lots of energy, but Ollie was…Ollie.

We spent the night at our son’s on an inflatable mattress once. I don’t think we slept  a wink, Oliver would launch himself onto us out of the dark and puncture us with his little claws. Normal kitten behavior…hanging from the beams in our son’s  basement, taking mini-cucumbers and putting them in shoes. Dragging a pizza slice onto the bed and snacking on it. Ninja attacks on the sleeping roommate who lived in the basement.

He’s six years old now. For reasons unknown, possibly because little Max is no longer around for him to torture, he reverts to predator mode and goes for me. (I find it pretty interesting that I’m MUCHHHH larger than Max was and that still doesn’t deter him.) Two days ago he nipped the back of my leg as I walked by, he did the same thing to Max.

I may have to rent a lion costume and growl at him a lot. I’m also wondering how old a cat has to be before he loses his teeth.