Well. Mostly, my little Troublemaker™. Her name's Chambray and she is seven pounds of trouble and spaz on a stick, and the only offspring I'll ever need (or be able to keep up with).

She's the type of cat to throw herself off of 8' loft beds, chase a plastic bag until it chases her back (and then hide under me), crash into doorframes and walls during the nightly Crazy Hour™, or bundle herself up entirely in a blanket to take a nap...until she rolls over in her sleep and falls off her perch.

In short, she's got the personality of a very adorable four-year-old child, frequently looking to Mommy for help or protection from the evil evil ants that are chasing her across the floor. She follows me around, talks copiously to me, and throws up on my socks or, on her Very Bad Days, all over my worktable.

Love her dearly.

Photo © me, for gossake please don't steal it, this is my furchild here. :3