Well, times have changed and our little baby's morphed into a giant cat. I call him Baby Huey, because he's roughly the size of a small dog, but still acts like a baby. (Which, technically, he is--he's a seven-month-old baby trapped in an NFL player-size body.)
He's still awfully cute, though. He's very playful, and turns everything into a toy to bat across the room--even inappropriate things, like Mark's diabetes supplies.
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He's also got good manners, most of the time.
OK, who am I kidding? He has terrible manners, and will jump right onto the table to steal your food or the straw from your drink (his new favorite toy).
He's also independent--like most babies his age, he's learning to feed himself.
OK, the truth is, our giant Fernando has grown into a freakishly large, mischievous cat. He's naughty, fearless and literally takes your breath away when you're relaxing on the couch and he hurls himself onto your belly. But in just a few short months, he's become an indispensible part of our family, and we love him anyway.
Well, most of us do...
Some of us (names and breeds to remain anonymous) still think he's a hyperactive little pest.
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