I have two theories about how I got my name (QT). One is that it’s to do with where I was found: running around at a Quiktrip. The other is the one I prefer: it’s because you can’t look at me without saying, “Oh my goodness, what a QT pie!”  I’m not fluffy bunny cute. I’m more like… imagine a precocious 7-year-old (I’m actually only one year old, but bear with me) with a Scottish accent telling you facts about space and rude jokes they don’t actually understand. I’ll make you laugh so hard you can’t breathe. I’m rough-and-tumble cute and charming in the extreme.  I’m super outgoing, I love attention, and I love to play. I get along well with other cats and have never met a stranger.  I’m a master of headbutts… and also kind of a butthead. I mean, isn’t that part of the fun of having a cat? Especially an orange one? I like to be held, but will sometimes decide all of a sudden that I’m not into it anymore and will nip. And I take a closed door as a challenge. Where are you going? Without ME? And, when I’m playing, I can get riled up and sometimes need a reminder that hands are not toys. A lot of that might be that I’m in a pretty overwhelming environment. It’s like an amusement park: even though I’m having a great time, it’s sometimes just too much and I get overstimulated. But still, I might be a little too rough for li’l babies or sensitive seniors. When I’m not engaging in shenanigans, though, I’m a super sweet and loving fella. Generous with the purrs. Totally devoted to you.  So whaddaya say? Want to make it official? After all… IMAQT!