Kittens: Bastiens of the Lonely

I must have finally gotten fed up with living alone, because this weekend I got a cat to keep me company. The original plan was to catch one of the kittens living in my friend's dad's barn, but trying to find feral kittens that didn't want to be found on a hot, sweaty, Texas afternoon turned out to be an exercise in futility. Fortunately, the kittens at the adoption center are much easier to catch (and they probably smell better, too).

These pictures don't do him justice. He looks so calm and peaceful, a pure joy to be around. Don't be fooled. I can only manage to snap a shot of him when he's sleeping, which seems to be about a third of the time. The other two thirds, he's running, pouncing, and playing with a fury that has to be seen to be believed. Of course, in true kitten fashion, it's play for two hours and then recharge for one. Lather, rinse, repeat. All. Night. Long.

Sigh.

Don't get me wrong, I love the little guy. I mean, with a face like that, who wouldn't? When he frolics his way into the other room and realizes he can't see me anymore, he starts to meow as if to say, "Help! I'm lost!" and then comes running when I speak up to let him know where I am. And when he does sleep, he loves to be right at my side. Or on my chest, or shoulder, or head.

I'm not yet 100% decided on a name for him. In the confines of my own home, Dork, Doofus, and Goofball seem to work just fine, as he ignores them all equally. But I don't think I could keep a straight face when I tell the vet to put Dork on the chart, so I need to come up with something official. Right now I'm torn between Miles and Winchester.

Miles comes from Miles Davis. The jazz musician, not the self-wetting old lady from Billy Madison. As he was freaking out in the pet carrier on the car ride home, I put on some jazz and it seemed to mellow him out a bit. Granted, I was listening to Diana Krall, but a boy kitty named Diana? Puh-leeeease.

Winchester comes from the empty box of shotgun shells he decided to use as his bed after I unsuccessfully tried to get him to sleep on my lap last night. That, and the fact that as soon as I told the adoption lady which one I wanted, she said, "Oooh, he's a pistol!"

So if anybody wants to cast a vote or offer other suggestions (Bone Junior has already suggested combining the two to make Minchester), please do. And if you don't hear from me for a while, it's because having a 10-week-old kitten has sapped me of all my energy.

Update: Battle Cat and Cringer just got added to the list. At this rate, this kitty's never gonna get a name.