Yuri the Kitten

This is Yuri.



She was born on September 14 last year, and is a Blue British shorthair from Russia (hence the name. "Yuri" also means "lily" in Japanese, which we also chose in memory of my late mother. And also it means "girl on girl," but we knew about that later).  My brother-in-law, who was originally a fighting cock breeder but is now a breeder of two parrots, one Burmese python, four American bullies, and countless bonsai, (but also fighting cocks) bought her.

She came to the Philippines several days ago, bearing a passport. Yes, a passport. Dude, I didn't have a passport 'til I was 35. This kitten had a passport at 5 months old.

It's been three days since I transported her from my sister's at San Fernando, La Union, to here. I waited a total of three days for her arrival, alternating between feeling excited and feeling anxious as I do about any new person that comes into my myopic worldview. I was so anxious the day I was supposed to pick her up that I left my cellphone in the tricycle we rode in to bring her home. (The driver was kind. He brought it back.)

Her papers go way back in her ancestry. I mean, look.


In case you're reading this on a phone like some sort of savage, the first column lists her Dam and Sire (fancy!), then the next, her grandparents, then her great-grandparents, and then finally, her great-great-grandparents. Again, dude, I have no idea as to my genealogy for that far back. This kitten is serious about being a person, man.

As far as I know, for as long as I have known her, she's a sweet kitten. She plays around the house, where she also gets distracted by... I don't know what.


And sometimes gets the look on her face that she has seen the universe in its entirety and found out that God was a dog.


She likes to sleep in the daytime. I think she's still jet-lagged, but I could be wrong.


Sometimes, when I get started in my day and look for files, she decides that my mouse pad is actually her bed. (Well, at least it's not my keyboard, or else I'll get fired from my job.)


She twists herself in the cutest and most contortiony positions.


And sometimes she sleeps with us. Two nights ago, she slept on my pillow, pushing my head out of the way. For a kitten, she sure can spill out. I spent the night with no pillow.


She favors our office chairs for sleep, but today she slept with Tres on the living room pod. 

Sweet cat, Yuri. I think she's a keeper. You will now see thousands of cat pictures on my social media accounts. I have now turned into your single, 47-year-old, drunk aunt who lives with 50 cats.

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