Jiji is no longer a kitten, and I am sad. This photo was taken almost two months ago; look at the size of him compared to Gryffindor. Gryffindor is not a small cat. And now Jiji is even bigger.
Now Jiji is a teenage cat, and he is a jerk. He torments the other cats (especially Minerva), eats anything he can get his mouth around, drinks anything he can stick his head into, climbs into any bag he can (including schoolbags and grocery bags full of groceries), and pulls the ziplocked bag of bread off the counter to drag it around the house and gnaw at it through the plastic. You’d think we were starving him. (“Mummy,” Owlet said this morning, holding up the bag in question as she came into the kitchen, “I found a bread in my room.”)
Example: This past week I started making nice coffee for myself after dropping the kids off at school, to help me slog through my last project.
Me: NO, CAT. YOU MAY NOT STICK YOUR PAW INTO MY SALTED CARAMEL LATTE.
Jiji: Too late!
*cue caramel pawprints on the work papers all over my desk*
Me: Guess I’m making myself another salted caramel latte.
Jiji: Those pawprints I licked up were delicious. Make it two.
And apparently neither of us learned, because two days later…
Me: CAT, NO
Jiji: Well, I didn’t stick my paw in it this time.
Me: No, you stuck your HEAD in.
JIji: Good job on the caramel latte, Mum. Two whiskers up.
Me: I wouldn’t know. I haven’t even tasted it yet.
I’m really looking forward to Jiji getting past this stage and mellowing into a proper adult cat. It’s probably not going to happen anytime soon, however.