Ars Memorandi Mori

Yesterday, I became the proud owner of two new kittens. My girlfriend expressed to me some news on Friday that a woman she works with was looking to get rid of a few cats. I jumped at the offer, and a few days later we spent several hours shopping for a litter box. By Sunday evening, two bundles of fur were frolicking on my apartment's hardwood floors, jittery as hell and jumping at the strong footsteps of the tenant upstairs.

They are both about six weeks old. One is a grey tabby, the obvious instigator of the two. He often starts the bouts of wrestling by running into the other at high speed, and has made a little home by the radiator behind my desk, callously rejecting the bed/towel we arranged for him in another room.

The other is a mostly-black-and-orange calico, and has been the most vocal and acrobatic of the two. This guy meows A LOT, and apparently for no reason other than he likes the sound of his voice. He also has been jumping around and on the several chairs and candelabras I have strewn about. He seems obsessed with perfect balance, which makes his brother's sporadic poundings all the more comical.

They have no names yet. I feel compelled to name the calico Socrates, as his personality reflects an adept orator and thinker, but I'm still considering one for the grey tabby. Calling them both "hey, cat" could lead to identity issues. I hope to have photos up soon, and maybe the two readers of this blog can help name them. They are both male, and I'm really attracted to names in theology/philosophy or mythology.

In the meantime, I hope to train them to be absolute killers of any intruder, so if you decide to visit me in Cleveland, be forewarned.