Not much, actually. Besides pilfering kibble from the older cats' food bowls, he likes to chase his new toy, Da Bird, a feather teaser on string and a fiberglas rod. The feather cluster flies and swoops realistically once the controlling human gets the hang of it. Wendy loves it and is good at nailing it in mid-flight, catching it with both paws and holding it fast (as I jerk it, to mimic a desperate birdie) until she can get it into her mouth to carry it off. Possum is either less skilled at hunting or more kind-spirited; he lets Da Bird escape.
But it still wears him out, as you can see:
I've been continuing his musical education, focusing mostly on classic rock and pop. He likes Eric Clapton, Dick Dale, and the Beatles, so he's coming along nicely.
And he obliged me by belting out Patsy Cline's "Walking After Midnight," the other day; he may look like he's yawning in this photo, but he's actually singing the chorus of that country-western favorite: