My roommate has a cat named Xerxes, he’s a devon rex mixed with siamese. He was always a strangely cute little guy because he kind of has hints of humanity and being an empath, I know he misses his owner sometimes, but tries to make me feel sorry for him because his mommy put him on a diet. My roommate decided it was time for little Xerxs to have a pal. ENTER: Little Voltaire from the Ukraine, an adorable little devon rex kitten. I think Xerxes was getting used to the idea of being an only child and then had to come to terms that he wasn’t the little raggamuffin he used to be.
The other day he came into my room like he was pissed with the most human expression on his face and without words we had a whole conversation:
*opens door* Xerxes: “I’m so done with that little ^*^*&^!”
Me: “Uhm, you okay Xerxes?”
X: “I like playing with Voltaire sometimes, but it’s like all the time with this dude. The only time he’s not up my butt is when he’s asleep…just recharging.”
Me: “Well yeah, he’s a kitten dude, you’re suppose to using him as your exercise (i.e. fighting, chasing etc…)”
X: “I’m out of shape! I thought the idea of having a new cat would be great and it was….but I…I just….can’t …even.”
*plops beside me on the bed*
X: “I just need a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, this kind of stuff makes me glad I’m fixed.”
Me: “You just mad you not the baby anymore LOL”
*hears Voltaire breaking stuff in the distance*
X: “No man, I know I’m not the baby and I’m fine with that. But he needs to keep all the crazy Russian s*** to himself, by the way, close your door before he finds out I’m here.”
Me: “Are you at least giving him a chance? He’s not used to this culture, he needs to feel like this is his home too.”
X: “I like him actually. I just feel, what do you call it when something bugs you a lot?”
Me: “stress?”
X: “Yes…that thing. That’s how I feel AND I’m taking care of you too!”
Me: “How are you taking care of me?”