Wolf got a cat.

And he's fucking adorable.

Meet Crowley. (That's him watching Dr. Strange)

No... not like the sour cream brand... or like the demon from Supernatural. He's named after Crowley from Good Omens.

He actually is mine. He doesn't belong to my parents. He was my birthday present.

And lemme tell you, this little guy stole my heart at the shelter. And he still hasn't returned it. I was meeting the second group of kittens and the two they had were playful.

The other one climbed up on the cages and ran around, not acknowledging a single person in the room. Crowley ran about, played and walked up to every single one of us. Okay... there goes one part of my heart.

The rest of my heart was stolen when he started playing with one of those little balls that has a bell in it. He batted it around like there was no tomorrow, then he picked it up in his mouth. The second he picked it up, I knew this little shit was the one.

He was temporarily take to my fathered girlfriends house where he just played and played with me. I have never seen anything so cute.

And his meow... it's so high pitches and precious... I die on the inside every time. And don't get me started on his purr. Oh my god!

Ummmm.... before I started rambling... have some pictures.

Crowley curled up with me on his second night while my father and I watched a Netflix comedy special. Little fuckers all ready at home.

  Also, my father breaking him manly exterior and playing with Crowley for the first time. I see right through you good sir.... 'it's all but an act.

Crowley curling up with me for the second time that day as I was reading.

Now away from the pictures. Lemme tell you what this poor fool did.

I was the only one home and I was getting cleaned up. So he follows me into the bathroom as I turn on the faucet. He's scared, and runs out of the room eventually. Not to long after I'm in the shower I hear a high pitcher meow.

I, filled with the upmost concern for him, wrap a towel around myself and open the door to look for him. He was at the foot of the staircase worried that he was alone.

He ran over to me all happy. Well great, I think as he nuzzles up against me, he going to keep doing this and break my heart. There is but one solution.

So Wolf had to leave the door and curtain open for him so he knew exactly where I was. And he pretty much stayed in the bathroom, but made the smart move to leave once I began singing my new rendition of Dear Theodosia from Hamilton.

It was called Dear Crowley Cat.

Thankfully he only pulled that shit once.

Crowley also makes a rather effective feather duster.

Whilst exploring in the first two days, Crowley managed to find the nooks and crannies I can't usually get to when I clean. So I had to pick cobwebs out of geniuses whiskers.

But Crowley is an awesome cat. He's loving and just so playful. My favorite thing is watching him char around one of his balls, or pouncing on one of his toy mice.

The worst thing is probably the fact that he eats the dog food.

I mean come on. We bought him kitten food and everything. Nope. He just eats the dogs food, not st alll bothered by the fact the food pellets are bigger than his mouth. It's hilarious to watch him eat.

Anywho... so many books to read... so few decades to do so.

Now I have a pile of books I got recently to attend to, so I bid you adieu.