. . . varmint (it lives in your house).
-gailr
Kitten.
When it matures:
"Son of a . . ." (it raids your bird feeder [sometimes preceded by a modifying phrase describing its relationship with The Almighty or its relationship to its feminine parent]).
Lucky Son of a . . . (the roommate's tomcat, Grey Mouser, who somehow miraculously escaped with all nine of his lives after he "marked" an early-1900's volume of one of Mark Twain's works from a set of mine in an effort to attract the attentions of his cohabitor, Cheshire Cat; all the more ironic in that Twain liked cats more than dogs.)
//Larry,
Who, when working summers as a
Good Humor Man lo these many years ago and approached at one stop by a young girl, who, bearing a basket of kittens, asked, "Do you like cats?", replied to the young girl, "Oh, I love cats; fried in butter with ketchup and horseradish sauce they're delicious!", which elicited the response, "Ew, you're mean!"