Effing Scooter, who comes by his name honestly, was upset today because I made him stop licking the cakes of watercolor paint. He took his displeasure out of the office and wandered the house, singing his anger and letting it echo in the hallway while I was trying to work.
(Knowing him, he probably also peed on something. Maybe with the addition of the paint he'll be able to create a more interesting protest piece!)
His other claim to fame is poking me with his whiskers when he wants me to get up and feed him in the morning. I'm not sure that's intentional or just a byproduct of his whisker length and his love of staring at me from one inch away, but it's like having acupuncture done by a drunk.