Affectionately Bitey

Does a name define who you are? If you choose a name that is light and fluffy, will its bearer be filled with sugar and spice and all that is nice? If you choose a name that is an iconic representation of evil, will its bearer lay about those around it with a mischievous sense of malevolence?

Early. It is early. Light has sprawled its lazy way across the sky but all right thinking people still have no intention of cracking their eyelids just yet. Time of day is of no importance to her, though, not to this miniature hunter, this silken predator.

She waits. When it is a necessity, she can bide her time. She waits. For the sign, that little signal. Patience is not her forte but, if need be, she will wait.

A small stirring. A disturbance. An interruption in the deep-breathing, snoring pattern of sleep. This is it. This is The Time. Her prey is not yet conscious but neither is he fully asleep any longer. The waiting is over. She readies herself, she sets herself and then she pounces...

And, to confound expectations, she is the personification of affection. She is loving and sweet and so cute that it is impossible to turn her away. To do so would be mean and spiteful and so her attentions, which would be preferable at a decent time of day, are tolerated with an equal mixture of affection and frustration.

Until she decides that it's time to play and bites me on the hand. Then she's right on the floor.

Maybe we shouldn't have called the kitten Darth Vader after all..


(Postscript - Whilst being a techy, gadgety sort of a fella, when it comes to writing, I nurture an inner Luddite. A large majority of these here blogs are written by hand on one of my many notebooks before undergoing the second draft process of being transferred to the webby page. During the analogue writing of this post, Evil The Kitten decided that a fun game would be to bat the pen around as I was writing. She was wrong. Unfortunately, she is persistent.)