You might know her by other names depending on where she popped up on your social media.  Flying cat, demon cat, “wtf that’s creepy.”

 

Her friends call her Karai.  She’s 3 years old and one feisty little girl.  She’s half Maine Coon, half big ol’ black tomcat, but she stayed small.  She’s got all the floof and helper cat personality of a Maine Coon, though.

Karai came to us as a tiny kitten.  A coworker knew that we were looking to add a black cat to the household, and he told me that his cat was expecting.  In March 2015, we got the news that the kittens were born, and there was in fact a black kitten.

As she grew, he noticed an adorable white spot on her chest and the tip of her tail.

“She looks like a long-hair,” my boyfriend pointed out, a little disappointed because he didn’t want a long-haired cat, but he knew I was already in love.  It didn’t take long at all for him to fall in love too.

She was a tiny ball of chaos who lived to torment her big sister, Seven.  Seven had no problem putting her in her place, though.  We warned her, “Establish your status now.  She’s going to be a big cat when she grows up.”

That never happened.  She grew to about 7 pounds and that’s as big as she needed to be.  The rest is floof.

Karai is a master manipulator.  She knows just how to get what she wants by melting your heart.  Her sweet kitten voice calls questioning as she curls belly-up at your feet.  “Are you still upset with me?” All is forgiven in an instant.

Her favorite game is fetch, which she insists on playing with a wadded up receipt.  If one is handy and she is in the mood to play, she will deliver it to your foot and proceed to rub on your ankles (which we call “buttering”).  Fetch isn’t as simple as it sounds.  She runs after the paper, shakes it to be sure that it’s dead, and then stops along the way to introduce it to all her favorite places around the house before bringing it back.

Sounds pretty cute.  I’m destroying the demon kitty facade that everyone is so familiar with.

BUT WAIT! There’s more!

Her name was my boyfriend’s choice, based on our mutual love of ninja turtles.  It also means spicy, or it can mean cyclonic thunderstorm according to Wiktionary.  The latter being incredibly accurate.  When we brought her home, we kept her in a large training crate for the first week so that Seven couldn’t get to her unsupervised.  When she would become restless in the crate, she would hang on the ceiling and howl like a tiny werewolf.  Heavy storms would pop up out of nowhere and one such storm brought the worst tornadoes the area had seen in a long time.  We joke when there is severe weather, “Karai, was that you?”

Also, a bit of occult lore for you.  We discovered something strange about this girl when she came home from her spay.  I was examining the stitches on her shaved belly when I had a moment of panic.  “They stitched her together crooked!” I exclaimed when I saw her tiny nipples didn’t line up…but then I realized it was because she has one extra.  Yup, my kitty is a witch’s familiar for sure.

Regardless, she’s still a huge mama’s girl and never misses a chance for cuddles.

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