Just over 8 months ago, we welcomed Arwen into our lives. She is, without a doubt, still a force of chaos, also known as a kitten. I know, she’s over a year old now (since she was 6 months when we adopted her), and technically not a kitten, but I don’t think she realizes that.
She has taught everybody in the house a bit about patience, some better than others. Diane still has points where she barely tolerates Arwen, particularly on the bed at bedtime. But I’ll wake up in the middle of the night to find Arwen lying next to her, and sometimes June is there too.
If there’s human food involved, Arwen’s the first one there. Constantly. But she’s not up on the counter (as much) while I’m cooking, and has learned most of the time to wait until I put a plate down to lick. That said, I still won’t walk out of the dining room with a plate of food at the table, and leftovers have to be tucked away while we’re eating.
She’s been great at getting June to exercise, they will tear through the house playing at random times. Honestly, that’s one of the reasons I wanted a kitten, to encourage the older cats to move more. (Hasn’t work so well with Diane.) And they curl up together at times, just like June and Diane still do.
She is a mighty insect huntress. I can always tell when there’s an insect in the house, because she’s suddenly leaping straight up at the window or the wall. I rarely notice what kind of insect it was. Unfortunately, I have far fewer spiders than I used to; I think she’s eaten all the obvious ones.
She’s even learned not to use her claws when grabbing people. She still reaches out to grab me, but now it’s cute instead of painful. Her obsession with nibbling on toes, well, that’s still a thing. Slippers are our first line of defense.