Twenty-four hours into the adoption and I can say that Savannah is exactly the cat she appeared to be at the shelter�placid and affectionate.

Her long body, extremely long legs and small head make her look more like some sort of African cat than a house cat. It's as if I have my own tiny leopard roaming my office.

And then there's Binky.

Binky, Binky, Binky.

When we were at the shelter the spousal unit looked at this tiny gray cat cowering around my foot, a shiny gray ball of whimpering terror and said, "He looks like a cat without much personality."

Well, it turns out that isn't exactly true. Freed from being terrorized by the meaner and bigger cats at the shelter, Binky has found himself.

Oh yes, Binky has personality. Binky has personality to burn. It is starting to look more and more as if Binky is the demon spawn of an unholy coupling between a Formula One race car driver and an elephant.

The words "walk" "meander" and "stroll" are not in Binky's vocabulary. Binky has three gears: fast, faster and fastest. Watching him sprint all over my office and carom off every available surface has been exhausting.

This morning at 5:30 Binky discovered that through years of practice the spousal unit and I can quite easily sleep through a young cat yelling, "Hello, anyone awake yet? Helllllooooo, anyone want to play? HEY WHAT DOES A CAT HAVE TO DO TO GET FED AROUND THIS JOINT?"

Oh yes, we can sleep through that, but then he discovered that he can make the temporary door to my office rattle very loudly if he hooks his paw under it and shakes it. That we are unable to sleep through. Two very cranky middle-aged people found themselves grumpily starting their day at 5:30 ayem today while a very joyous little ball of gray fur raced through and around their feet.

So where does the elephant part come in? Well, elephants can be extremely destructive herbivores. They can literally bulldoze trees out of the ground in an effort to get at the tender foliage at the top.

Binky has decided to try to eat each and every plant in my office. When he was chewing on a spider plant runner he managed to pull the plant off the window sill and on to the floor. He climbed up my dracaena tree to get at the tender leaves at its top and tipped it over.

I have had to temporarily denude my office of greenery.

Wait. It gets worse.

This morning, when I went to put on my headphones so I could listen to some MP3's while I was answering e-mail, I found that the foam ear pads were missing.

Then I noticed that Binky was happily batting a round black circle around on the floor. You guessed it, one of my headphone ear pads. I have looked everywhere in my office, and have yet to find the other. I am keeping my fingers crossed that he was not stupid enough to eat it.

There is only one way to discipline a cat such as Binky.

A gun.

Actually, two guns, one for the spousal unit and one for me.

No, I'm not going to shoot him or pistol whip him. I would, of course, be talking about spray guns. So today after I worked out I drove into town and bought two spray guns so every time the cat does something wrong he's going to be squirted with a tiny jet of water.

He will either shed his bad habits very very quickly or we will be the proud owners of a continuously damp gray cat.

Anyone care to bet on how this is going to turn out?

--Marn

P.S.�If you have a few bucks to spare, please consider donating to the Jog for the Jugs. Remember, all your donations are going to help in the fight against breast cancer and they're in Canadian dollars, which are only marginally more valuable than monopoly money.

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Mileage on the Marnometer: 956.88 miles. Over half way there. Oh, man, please let this be over