Well, HELLO there!
My desk has a fuzzy, judgy accessory. Jelly is a cat, but don’t tell her that. She’s pretty sure she’s royalty and this is her fiefdom (we consider her more like Ivan the Terrible, than Elizabeth II). It probably bothers her that we don’t bow and scrape on a regular basis, but my back hurts and I’m too busy (lazy).
Jelly was a rescue. The runt of the litter, apparently she’s the one who figured out how to open doors to set the other kittens free an an hourly basis. The owner couldn’t find a home for this scalawag and was going to take her to a shelter, when we stepped in and took her home.
If Jelly was writing this, she’d say “kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkq84,e!#” because she can’t type. Unlike the other cat, who’s graceful and elegant, Jelly moves with a herky jerky motion that draws parallels to early, Soviet technology or a robot arm operated by a toddler. She doesn’t have a pretty, trilling MEOW – instead it’s more like scraping broken glass over the surface of a cheese grater.
What she does have, is a huge personality, an obsession with boxes, a curiosity that constantly gets her into trouble, a desperate need for snuggling, a bunny partner in crime and a bizarre liking for being spanked.
In other words…she’s perfect.
Watch this blog for Jelly updates. You can also see more of her if you follow me on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.
Later!