‘Nuki has a tough life. It’s his own fault, though.
He spends all his time working on his rep. “Mr. Murder Mittens.” “Knuckles Malloy, Notorious Mobster Feline.” Those are names with capital-P Power. Oompj. Even “Mr. Thugbutt,” for all its superficial silliness, has a touch of that menacing edge.
It’s exhausting to keep it up, all day, every day.
You gotta give the guy props, though. He’s in there doing the work and reaping the rewards.
Okay, okay. He slips occasionally.
But notice that right front paw. Even at his inadvertent cutest, ‘Nuki still stays on message. There may only be one claw exposed, but it’s a darn sharp one.
Then there’s his little sister, Sachiko.
She’s got a rep of her own, and she’s far less prone to slip than Big Brudder Nookles. And that’s a Really Good Thing, because she’s the current holder of the “Ms. Otter Girl” title. Has been for more than four years now.
That’s “otter” as in “always going where she otter not be.”
Case in point.
She’s also been known to climb over the fence you see behind her. It would be beneath her dignity to simply go down a couple of steps and come back on the other side of the fence. Such sedentary behavior might be appropriate for old fogies like her siblings, but not for a young lady with athletic inclinations.
She wishes it known that, should she decide to go to Stanford, she will earn her scholarship. No need to bribe her way onto the rock climbing team.
Yeah, I have an Otter Cat too. Mr. Ferguson, all lanky ginger attitude, loves to give me a heart attack by prancing along the banister over a sheer drop to the upstairs steps eight feet below him. And I don’t think he’s as deftly balanced as he imagines he is, owing to a permanently curled tail that looks very dashing swooping back over his flank, but has to throw him off center. We’ve tried everything to stop him jumping up there; only distraction works. Like, you know, food.
Yeah, the spot where Sachiko is sitting in the picture is about twelve feet above a flagstone floor. So when she goes climbing over the fence–frequently in pursuit of treats–she’s doing it over about sixteen feet of empty air.
It’s like they pick their spots for maximum heart attack potential.
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