Atwood wrote:Adoptions are open, right? I couldn't resist this little one any longer. X3
Pet's ID Tag: #36
Image of pet
Name You'd Choose for It: Winifred (if the name can be changed)
Gender: Female
Reason You Want It: I've been lurking around the Agency quite a bit over the past few weeks, and this little kitten really caught my eye. After a couple of weeks, she was still here and I found I was even more drawn to her than before, so I decided it was about time I put in an application for her. :3 I love how her design and colours are 100% natural and yet distinctive, with the understated colours combined with deep green eyes, snowy white paws and the little white blaze on her face, and she looks like she has such a lively charm to her, a mischievously playful nature combined with a bright intelligence and a kind heart. She’s also a perfect match for my cat character
Sinjon, who’s been in need of a family of his own – Sinjon never really fit anywhere with my other characters and has been in a bit of a limbo state for quite some time, but Winifred/Malika clicked instantly with him and a home materialized around the two of them and their interactions.
PersonalityWinifred is a very bright sort of cat, the kind that enjoys following people about and conversing with them in little mews and chirps, will never pass up a chance to chase dust motes in the sunshine, and will leave no paper bag unexplored. Few things escape her notice in the household, and she’s insatiably curious about all things. A crumpled piece of paper will entertain her for hours as she chases it through her own invented world in the livingroom, where couches transform into rugged mountains, carpets become fields of waving savannah grass, and curtains change into mighty sequoias to be scaled. Through this imagined landscape, Winifred – or Freddie, as her brother Sinjon calls her – will stalk her paper antelopes and pursue the lightning-fast stringboks, occasionally capturing her prey and dragging it to the top of the curtains to be leisurely shredded. This particular habit of hers is a continual source of both amusement and frustration to her owner, George, who often returns home to find the curtains festooned with shreds of paper and bits of string or feathers, the spoils of Winifred’s day of hunting.
Life isn’t all about big game hunting for Winifred though – she has her quieter moments where she’s content to simply curl up with Sinjon in the sunlight or splash her paws in the pond out back, and whenever George is working at his computer, she is sure to perch on his lap and keep him company. Sometimes she even helps him out with it, standing up so she can paw at the keyboard or poke at that pesky mouse pointer on the screen. This sometimes results in people receiving emails from George that include things like “and the tectonic movement of the placxiklj54lkfv m,fds9qwxc’[p”, but George doesn’t mind.
The only thing that can seriously ruffle Winifred’s composure is thunder, which never fails to send her and Sinjon rocketing under the bed with their tails puffed and ears flattened, and the two will remain in that dark haven until the last rumble has faded away and it’s once again safe for felinity to emerge. Apart from that booming menace, the two cats lead a happy and content life in their peaceful cottage home.
History/Background/Other: Winifred was born on a sunny afternoon in a basket of fresh laundry with her brother Sinjon. Their mother was Millie, a purebred Bengal, while their father was the swaggering tabby tom down the street, Percy, who had a particular knack for finding open windows. Though their arrival came as a shock to Millie’s elderly owner, Mrs. Bernard, she was nonetheless pleased to have kittens from her beloved pet, and she made sure the two tiny kittens got the best of everything as they grew into boisterous young cats. However, much though she adored them, it was clear that her small house was insufficient to contain the energy of two growing kittens, and both she and Millie began to feel quite frazzled from constantly keeping an eye on the two.
While Sinjon was a quiet and rather polite youngster who took very much after his mother, Winifred was more like her adventurous father, always getting into everything, constantly investigating every nook and cranny, and finding her way to the tops of cupboards and underneath counters. More than once, Mrs. Bernard had to climb up on a chair to pluck Winifred from some high-up place or call her nephew to rescue the kitten from inside the wall she had managed to squeeze into. Finally it was decided that the kittens needed someone with more time and energy to keep up with them, and so Winifred and Sinjon found themselves being tucked into a cardboard box with their blanket and some favourite toys by a rather tearful Mrs. Bernard. The box was gently placed in the back seat of a car, and after a somewhat bumpy ride down a long gravel road, the two kittens arrived at their new home.
Sinjon was too worried about the whole thing to even come out of the box at first, preferring to stay in the warm mother-scented safety of his blanket, but Winifred poked her head out as soon as the string holding the box closed was untied, gazing around as she pulled herself out of the box. The house was small, more of a cottage, really, but the sunlit windows were broad and the floorplan open, with plenty of space for a cat to careen around the furniture, and there was a neatly-kept fireplace in the corner that promised a warm place to curl up in the evenings. “Hello, there, little miss,” said a friendly human voice, and Winifred turned to eye up her new human appraisingly. He was tall and grey-haired with kindly eyes and a distinct air of bachelorhood, and his shoulders looked just right for a cat to be draped over. Deciding there was no time like the present to test her hypothesis, Winifred padded over to where he was crouched beside the box and stretched her paws up to his knee. With a brief waggle of her rear quarters and a short jump, she launched herself up to his shoulders and settled herself over them, shifting around a little to get comfortable and letting her paws dangle down on either side. Yes, they were indeed just right, she decided with a purr of contentment. The human chuckled and gave her tail a playful light tug before standing carefully, keeping his hand near her to make sure she didn’t fall, and walking into the tiny kitchen, where two cat bowls were waiting to be filled. “Would you like a bit of chicken with your supper?” the human asked her, and Winifred squinted with satisfaction – yep, this one would definitely do.
The two kittens were soon settled in with their new owner, whose name was George, and they have grown into fine young cats. The cottage provides them with ample opportunities to explore its tree-filled yard and the large pond in the back filled with frogs and brightly-coloured koi, which Winifred loves to watch and paw at but never harms – she reserves her claws for paper and balls of aluminium foil, as well as the occasional curtain. Inside the cottage, she is most often found tearing around in pursuit of her latest toy or bauble, although she loves to curl up with Sinjon in their basket in the sunniest window, lounge on top of the curtain-rods, or bury herself in the laundry when it’s fresh out of the dryer, leaving only her eyes and two ears peeking out from underneath it. In the evenings, she and Sinjon sit with George on the couch watching television or just enjoying the fire in the colder months, with Sinjon on his lap and Winifred wrapped over his shoulders, just as she was on her first day with him.
I understand that by adopting this creature I take full responsibility for it. Yes, indeed. :3