I figure that since we’ve moved and now share the house with an additional 3 animals that haven’t really been talked about so much, I should profile the new guys.

This is Jazz. My father, a farrier, was never one to say “no” when a client offered him a new kitten, and so towards the end of the year my sister came into the house shouting “we’ve got a present Mom!” my mother knew we had a new addition to the family. My mother is presented with this tiny ball of silver and black tiger-striped fur and asked if it was a boy or girl kitten, and what its name was. “Dad said it’s a girl! Her name is Princess Jasmine,” said my sister with glee, having named the kitten after her most recent favorite cartoon character.

My mother held up the little kitten, the runt of its litter, and checked what sort of… um… assembly it had. “I hate to break it to you both,” my mother said, “but Princess Jasmine is a boy.”

These days he’s known as Jazz. He outgrew his “runt” phase after a year or two and has become one of the biggest cats I’ve ever known, topping the scales at about 30lbs. He’s furry as hell, and brushing him is one way to guarantee that I’ll be sneezing and coughing up cat hair for the rest of the day. Now about 15, he’s getting old, and he’s getting mean. Walk to close to him and he’ll take a swipe at your leg. In fact, I’m fairly certain that shortly after this photo was taken, he attempted to eat my face.

This also marks my 4000th post! I’m insane!