Even with a big spot of ringworm on his nose, Possumus Passamaquoddy is the sweetest kitten ever. Nevertheless, I can't bring myself to photograph him with his spotty nose. This is a memory I don't want to capture for posterity. I plan to forget all this — but remember it just in time before I do anything foolhardly, years from now, like adopt another feral kitten.
Possy is a lap cat, meaning he chooses my lap and curls up, purring. He tries to crawl into my long sleeves, climbs up to rest his head on my shoulder, burrows into my elbow — he is as endearingly affectionate as a cat can be. He and Wendy also make trouble by ripping dust jackets off books and knocking over my last remaining plant, etc., but they are kittens and we don't really care if they wreck the place. It's their job, in fact.
Possum likes getting pills. He's nice about getting his Soft Paws glued on. He eats everything we put in front of him, and then some. He is interested in my cooking. He sits up and begs for cheese or deli turkey, and holds my hand with both little paws, so I won't take his treat away. He has bewitched our older cats. He is once again singing tender arias about food, now that he's over his virus. He spends 99.9% of his life in some adorable, photogenic pose. I'm madly in love with him, can't you tell? I can't wait to come home to him.
Here are a few photos of Possy from a couple of weeks ago. Surely you agree that he's worth all the fuss.
I'm crazy about Wendy, as well, but she still keeps her distance from us, and doesn't photograph so well with my zoom lens and flash. But she's gorgeous and funny, and we love her, too. We try to cuddle with her every day, and her purrs are surprisingly loud for such a tiny cat. She's letting us get closer now before she runs off. Winning over Wendy will be a triumph to anticipate for the future, but in the meantime, we've got Possy in our arms.