A year ago last week, I finally wore my husband down and we went to a shelter to see about getting a second cat. Well, a kitten really, because there’s just nothing sweeter in the whole world than a fuzzy, purry, cat-nappy kitten. The kitten we picked at the shelter was calm and sleepy, he didn’t hiss at us when we picked up him and he groomed my hair a little (it probably needed it). We were sold on that tiny gray and white kitten.
When we finally brought him home, we were a bit surprised. Our tranquil kitten was, well, feisty as all hell. And our other, already slightly grumpy cat? Was the grumpiest creature on earth.
We finally gave him a name, Jacques-Imo, but the day we named him that may be the last time he was called that, aside from when he’s in trouble. He usually goes by Shmo, or Moses, or Shmo Bro, or Shmoses. Or Mos Def, naturally. To be honest, he probably gets called “little kitty” or “STOP THAT” more than anything else.
I know it’s hard to believe that this sweet face can cause trouble, but be ye not fooled. He is pure trouble. Adorable, adorable trouble.
With time, he and Karma made peace. Well, he still tries to mount her about thirty times a day. That’s normal, right?
His very favorite thing in the whole wide world is food. Any food, any time, any place. I’ve never been as excited about anything as my cat is about eating the exact same food, three times a day, every day. It would be cute if it didn’t involve so many early morning sleep disturbances. He also loves him some chips or crackers, which we never give him, but he hasn’t met a box or bag he can’t get into yet. And he has even been known, on occasion, to walk off with entire tacos while my husband isn’t paying attention.
He may be a year old, but he’s still a kitten at heart.
And also a ninja (that video is really a testament to my inability to be a normal person. I apologize for the crazy voice at the end. I have a problem).
But beyond being adorable, sweet, a little mean to Karma, and a ninja, he’s my cat. And I love him so much I sometimes worry about loving him more than my future kids.
Don’t judge me.
He’s my Shmo. You’d love him too, trust me.