Jason and a kitten for Kiku because she needed a smile today <3 She also wrote a fic on the subject here, which is friggin adorable and I strongly recommend.
This crazy-cute thing needs to be on my page. Now. And ok. The kitten is adorable, but I’m actually enamoured with other details—like Jay’s sock and the position he’s sitting in. So good.
When I woke up this morning, I didn’t anticipate spending the majority of my afternoon at the local humane society interviewing cats for the position of Writer’s Pampered Pet. Sure, it’s something I’ve thought about frequently—you all know that by now—but my ex was allergic and I was never quite sure of ‘having kids’ with J.
So the last two weeks have been weird. Good, but weird.
Many of you had requested I post pictures of Mr. Wayne. Understandably, D and I were hesitant for many of the same reasons I don’t post any pictures of myself: some people are crazy and one can never be certain when the crazy’s going to come to town.
But I have to share this cute ball of fluff with the world. Every fiber of my being demands it.
So we came to an agreement—photos of Mr. Wayne are restricted. But Batcat…
Now that’s a different story.
This is what happens when D spends an hour and a half in my graphics program.
The night crazies hit like clockwork, and the change from dapper gentleman to dark knight is obvious. He races around the apartment (who needs a swank car with four paws and pure speed?) and occasionally launches himself at invisible objects.
Tonight, he scaled a wall. And I don’t mean he took a flying leap and bounced off the wall—I mean, I was typing at my desk and looked up at the commotion and Batcat was gripping the doorframe of my office with all four paws four feet off the ground. He was higher than the switch plate. We stared at each other for a good ten seconds before he slid back down.
I’ve seen cats leap that distance and bounce off walls, scale curtains or even legs, but I’ve never seen anything quite like that.
I guess he was proving once and for all that he’s been well named. Little bastard doesn’t even need a grapple.
It’s apparently the cat.
“I took your collar off. Go on. Go get it. You’re vengeance. Go get the night. Go get it and bring it back. Go be Batcat.”
There are days when I swear I’m being taped for some ongoing live-feed independent movie—like Jim Carrey in The Truman Show. Except with Kevin Smith’s sadistic sense of humour.
One of Mr. Wayne’s favourite pastimes is sitting on the window ledge. D and I have taken to calling it ‘kitty cable’. He gets particularly enthusiastic at dawn and dusk when the Robins are plucking around the yard.
D asserts he’s watching the Food Network, but I know better.
He’s totally watching porn.
I was thinking...how do you feel about Vancouver?
Canada?
Yeah.
Never been there--what part is it?
It's above Washington.
State?
...
I was kidding. I don't know. Why?
I was thinking, you know, in another five years or so when I've got my financial stuff squared away and maybe I'm writing books, or something...of starting the process of moving there. Would you be ok with that? I mean, would you want to? Move to Canada, I mean.
Sure, I guess. As long as we can take Mr. Wayne.
Shut up. It’s part of my process.
Have you seen the hamper?
You mean Mr. Wayne's new Catcave?
Oh, I see.
After doing some research online, I was aghast to discover that the Science Diet brand of cat food that accompanied my feline friend, Mr. Wayne, home from the shelter had a long, sordid past of supposedly poisoning pets. Immediately, I took to the internet again, and spent hours researching the best of the best in cat food. After all, the more I invest in Mr. Wayne’s health now, the less I’ll have to invest later via an exorbitant vet bill.
Mr. Wayne took to it at once—plunged his head into the bowl and never looked back. Within a week he’d put on a healthy amount of weight and his coat was cat show shiny. And fluffy. My distinguished feline companion was now fluffy.
He vocalizes his appreciation for your ‘unique combination of high-quality, natural ingredients plus exclusive LifeSource Bits’ every single morning at approximately 4am and gobbles it down without the slightest bit of dignity. I’m very pleased with my decision to change his diet.
Except for one thing. I fear you misrepresent yourselves.
You claim your cat food contains ‘The Finest Natural Ingredients for Superior Nutrition’.
I’m pretty sure it’s rocket fuel.
Cats naturally have an excess of energy. Mine climbs the walls. Mr. Wayne trains extensively to fill the roll of Batcat after every meal, striving to protect his manor from evil doers like Killer Moths and I’m pretty sure it’s your fault.
I’m certain you’re aware of the inclusion of rocket fuel in your gourmet pet food. I simply wish you would include it on future labels.
Thank you for your time and the high-quality product that you produce.
A loyal customer and satisfied butler of one Mr. B. Wayne,
Mr. Alan Black
His technique? Flawless. The acrocatics? Beyond impressive.
I know you secretly doubted me when I said he never touched the ground. Batcat is adept at avoiding lava. Evil doers such as The Pink Poofball, Tiny Bits of Cardboard, and The Red Rope are not so lucky. ;)
You weren’t at the funeral. People asked about you.
Dick really fucked up with Jason. Both Bruce and Dick...
“Bruce,please. Let me in.”
Jason boosting Bruce’ s tires.
