Yoda wasn't a kitten, he was a survivor. I found him alone, starving and on the brink of death on a pavement in the inner city 5 1/2 years ago on Christmas eve. When he had recovered enough to stand he played on my desk at first. You can see how tiny he was by comparing him to the keyboard.
He wasn't a kitten that wanted to be held, he lived to bite and scratch and was extremely active. One day, it was ominously quiet and I got up from my desk to look for him, only to find that he had almost strangled himself in the cords from my PC to the mouse and keyboard.
He jumped into the uncovered fishtank and various buckets of water a couple of times and once managed to get his leg into old engine oil and was not amused when he needed a bath.
I lived on the 3rd floor of an industrial building with high ceilings so we were a good 10 meters off the ground and when he was about 8 months old, he was always jumping off the back stairs onto the neighbour's windowsills and running along them. One night he fell off of the windowsill and there was a little wail and a crash. My heart stopped beating and I went running down the stairs, expecting to find his broken body at the bottom. To my amazement, about 2/3 of the way down, I found him making his way up. I picked him up and rushed inside. To my amazement, he was unharmed, apart from biting his bottom lip and a small graze on his back leg. I put him next to me on the bed that night and he stayed there. My cat Earnest never left his side all night. The next morning, he was stiff and sore and rather sorry for himself and didn't move around too much. He also had a limp for a few weeks which gradually improved. To my great relief, he never jumped on to that windowsill again.
Here he is "helping" me fold some canvas squares that I had stitched into shapes for a film shoot
Just waiting to pounce
