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Franklin Arthur Bain

The addition of Franklin Arthur Bain, aka ‘hellbeast’, to the Talbot-Bain household.

Franklin Arthur is a fluffy white marshmallow of a kitten with a wonky ear and an attitude much bigger than he. He is growing quickly, and as he grows in size he is growing more destructive at rate that I will label “alarming”.

Franklin is following in Ethel’s very entitled footsteps, and it is making me quite fond of him. I don’t believe that animal souls are transferrable, but his clear expectation that we give him everything he wants the moments it occurs to him that he wants it… it makes me wonder. Ethel was a dachshund, Franklin is a cat. She was a girl, and an old one at that. Franklin is a boy, and a baby. That said, they both:

  • Expect all attention to be on them, unless they don’t want it. If he wants attention he’ll sit on your hands, on your keyboard, on the table between you and your dinner-plate. If he doesn’t want attention he will sit wherever he wants but aggressively defend his right to be there without pestering from you, even if the place he wants to sit is on your book/computer/arm.
  • Love smoked Russian cheese, sushi, parma ham, potato chips and crackers of every variety available in Vietnam
  • Sit wherever the hell is most inconvenient for you
  • Have ungainly large feet, proportional to the rest of their body
  • Have aesthetic ear defects that would make them animals that could not compete in shows. Also making them ineligible: attitude problems

Franklin’s favorite activities include:

  • Attacking your feet from under the table, sofa, chair, from behind a door, from around a corner
  • Knocking pens and lighters off any surface that isn’t the floor, and chasing them around the room until they inevitably become jammed someplace from which neither he, nor his humans, can retrieve them
  • Rolling roundish items found in the kitchen off the counter. Not a problem: onions/potatoes/oranges. Definitely a problem: eggs.
  • Stealing the kitchen sponge. We’ve gone through 15 at least, in two months. He carries them up the stairs, and either hides them or leaves them as a gift. “Here you might need this wet sponge, I’ve left it for you next to the hamper” or “I thought a better place to store this wet sponge might be under the duvet – just a suggestion.”
  • Attacking fingers typing on keyboards

I think the best thing to do is just add a bunch of kitten photographs now, right?

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1 reply »

  1. Love him! Love the photos…napping under the dining room table is so sweet, the last one with Ethel’s toy and the sponge is testimony to his nickname “Hellbeast”…. How weird about the sponge So!!

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Today entailed [scheduled, not emergency] outpatient surgery and Season 1 of community and Frank cuddles.
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