Continuing with the introduction of each of our kittens individually, I’d like to introduce you all to Comet.
Comet is trouble. Right here in San Francisco. And that starts with a T, and that rhymes with C, and that stands for Comet!
She’s not at all bad-natured or bad-tempered. She’s just very energetic — VERY, VERY, VERY FRACKING ENERGETIC — and very playful. Long past the time when Talisker is sacked in front of the heater and Houdini is sacked on the sofa, Comet still wants to play. Almost endlessly, apparently. And she thinks the entire world is her toy. Shoelaces, iPhones, books, magazines, jewelry, charger cables, countertops, sinks, the bathtub, hair, hands, feet, cursors moving on a computer screen, words appearing on a computer screen, pretty much anything happening on a computer screen… Comet thinks all of these are the best toy ever. (And yes, we’re working on training her out of thinking that hands and feet are toys.)
She is an incredibly energetic player, one of those kittens who will LEAP into the air doing triple flips, and will RACE up and down the length of the apartment chasing her sister or a crumpled up piece of paper or, apparently, nothing at all. She is the reason we now keep the lids down on the toilet seats, and have taken the curtains down in the living room, and have taken the toilet paper off the spools… (We did that the morning that Comet jumped onto the toilet seat when Ingrid was at the sink, looked Ingrid straight in the eye, sank her teeth into the end of the toilet paper, and raced off with it down the length of the apartment.)
She’s also, probably not coincidentally, the boldest of the three kittens, the one who wants to jump onto the highest places and explore absolutely everything that could possibly be explored. She is both wildly exasperating and endlessly entertaining.
But she’s also unbelievably sweet. When she finally does tire out, she loves attention, and she loves to snuggle: with us, with the neighbors, with pretty much anybody. She loves to give little nuzzly kisses, and we’ve (mostly) trained her out of biting our noses when she does it. She has a ball with her sister, Talisker, and will play and tussle and snuggle with her for hours on end. And she completely adores Houdini, the older kitten. She follows Houdini around like a puppy, and cuddles with her at almost any available opportunity. She also has one of the loudest purrs of any kitty I’ve known: you can literally hear her purring from across the room.
The explanation of the name: Some people have guessed that Comet was named after either the muscle car, the astronomical body, or the reindeer. None of these is correct. She is actually named after the household cleanser. Back in college, I had a friend whose family traditionally named their cats after household products (Jello and Windex being the ones I remember most vividly). Windex had kittens, one of whom was adopted by a very earnest lesbian who named it Sappho, but her housemates scoffed at this and renamed the kitten Saffola. When I told Ingrid this story years ago, she was very entertained by the idea: we talked about what other household products would make good cat names, she suggested Comet, and we both immediately loved it.
But the astronomical body is also very apt. Comet the kitten is very much like a ball of ice hurtling through space at enormous speed, with a long tail streaking behind her.
Here are eleventy billion photos. She’s a little hard to photograph, since she usually won’t hold still long enough, but I think we got some good ones.
Comet on my lap. I think she goes nicely with my op-art tights.
Comet on Ingrid’s lap. About to get off of it. “Sure, this lap business is pretty nice, but I bet there’s some trouble I could be getting into…”
Comet in mid-air. Our neighbor Kanani took this one. I literally have no idea what is happening in it. I’m not even sure which end is which.
Comet on the cat condo, about to launch into a life-or-death battle with the little fuzzy ball dangling from the top.
The battle royale!
Victory within her grasp! But at what cost… ?
Being a sweetie-pie with Houdini. I’m mostly featuring solo pictures in these Catroductions; but I couldn’t resist this one.
And once more, being a sweetie on Ingrid’s lap. And the cycle begins again…