Three ounces of fluffy loveliness, or so you'd think. Don't let her fool you. In the four days we've had her (not that anybody actually bothered to tell me, but just presented the spitting fireball on my lap) she's scratched me almost to death, driven our other feline monster to near insanity and torn the house to ribbons.
Maybe it's my punishment for everything I've ever done wrong. Poor Sassy left home last night and hasn't been seen since. She's probably frolicking with the dog-foxes, surely a far less dangerous pastime that being here with that ball of furry malevolence.
You can just see the cunning in those too-wide orbits of nastiness. Send me back to the battlefield. At least there they only had explosives.