Before you ask; no, we have not named him. I do not care to name him. (although, he does remind me of a Mouse Mouse that I know (Bethany's cat), which has me thinking MouseMouse the Extreme Supreme .... 2MES? no?)
About a month ago, Carl found him out in the junk by the barn, alone and exposed to the elements. The "elements" might or might not have included a fox or an owl or something. Seeing as the barn is situated close to the road, the "elements" definitley includes barreling SUVs of death. His mom either abandoned him or forgot where she left him. This is not out of the realm of possibility, as most of the barn cats around here are hit-or-miss for brain cells. Too many daddy/brothers waiting around to knock up the sister/cousins, if you catch my drift.
Carl was drawn in by the helpless, hungry mewling. Sucker.
He's grown up a lot in the past month. (The kitten, not Carl.) He's gone from bottle-fed teddy cuddler about the size of my tea cup to rolling around with the big boys and attacking feet from under the couch. He now fills up Wendy's whole potty, and breaks skin with his adorable little razor-sharp baby teeth.
Wendy adores him. She catches sight of him and instantly emits these cutesy girl noises that I didn't teach her. She does form words-something to the effect of "Hey mommy, there's the baby kitty. He's so cute. So cute so cute so cute so cute baby baby kitty baby kitty,"-but the
effect is more of a high-pitched whale warble that drowns out all other frequencies.
He is an instant-purrining type of kitty. He sees her/us/anyone coming, presumably to love on him, and he starts the motor.
Carl: That's not actually baby fuzz. He is just vibrating that fast.
D'ya like ears that are too pointy and big for his head?? Haha. Shut up. I do not love him. We are not naming him. (Ranger? Shadow? Terrence?)