Caturday: Jazz

THIS YOUNG LADY is the odd one of the triplets. I say “odd” because she’s a blue-point, whereas Sky and Aqua are both seal-points. (Sortof — they’re all mongrels, so the terminology isn’t entirely ept.) Her name is Jazz — Jazzy Jazz Jazzbo for short. She was named that because her creche collar was a checkered flag pattern with salmon pink plastic flowers. And the name stuck after the collar came off.

She likes to get down in the wee, smokey hours of the morning, in venues where the acoustics are cool and hot and the room has a lively sound. She likes to riff on the lonely sound of her own voice, scatting in wordless rhythms. She really wails.

Somehow, the sounds seem to have become associated with hunting behavior. Jazz will chase a foam rubber ball all over the house, yowling her cooldaddy riffs. She’ll stop the chase in front of us and look up at us with what Toni calls bedroom eyes (and I think is just a worried expression — and we’re both anthropomorphizing), as if to say, “See what a mighty hunter I am!”

Her fur is bunny soft, and she likes to cuddle on the couch. She also likes to sleep with humans on the bed, but Aqua and Loki are more forward, so get there first. Jazz will hop up on the bed, uttering a cute litttle bblleerrp! of effort, then, seeing one of the others already there, turn around and leave with the most dejected set to her shoulders. It’s sad and comical all at once, but it would be cruel to laugh — even in sympathy.

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