8 weeks old!This is Potet. (Potet means potato in Norwegian, and he's a couch potato!).
When we got him, we thought he was 8 weeks, but when we did the math we realized he was only 6 weeks when we brought him home, and not brave enough to jump off the couch.
Fears conquered, he now climbs everything from the curtains to attempting to shimmy his way up the door frames.
Still perplexed by the role of his tail in his life, he constantly chases it, bites it, forgets about it, and then starts the whole thing over again.
|He's got one red potato sized spot on his left side, and another on his right hip.|
His favorite toy is a crumpled up piece of paper. He's so proud of it and he walks with swagger when he carries it around. It's the simple things in life, right??
He takes a wee on my blanket (and only mine, never Stian's....should I be flattered?) whenever he gets the chance, and is therefore left to sleep in the living room each night. Hard to resist this face though:
This little potato plays until he drops. He'll be sprinting around the living room (causing terror and fright in his roommates...*ahem* me and Stian, that is) until he literally falls into a heap of exhaustion and then peace reigns over our home once more.
I love his name, but I wonder what the neighbors will think when I'm calling 'potato! potato! come home, potato!' off of our balcony each night (in Norwegian, of course) once he's old enough to go outside.
Uff da, Potet!!
(I just adore this little darling, but I also my Southern California cat Charles, who is being lovingly taken care of by my parents. Is it weird that I have a picture of him on my night table?).