Let me tell you about Phinneas. Anyone who knows me knows of my great and abiding love for orange tabbies, and Phinneas is a good example of why I love them so. He’s a little wild thing, racing around the room, jumping on his brothers and sisters, biting them on the neck one moment and then vigorously grooming them the next. He’ll race across the room to jump on my foot and bite it as hard as he can (and these kittens can bite HARD when they want to!) and then when I pick him up and pet him, he instantly goes limp, purrs loud enough to be heard from two rooms away, and gives me the Eyes of Love.
He’s the biggest kitten, and he likes to eat. Like, a lot. And he doesn’t want anyone else to eat off the plate he’s eating from, so if anyone gets too close, he gives them the Paw of No. Right now he’s at a pound and a half, and he has a big ol’ beer belly. It doesn’t slow him down, though.
NOTHING slows down our Phinneas – but he’ll take time out for a belly rub, of course. A boy’s gotta have priorities!
I walked into the room to find the bunch of them stuffed into that little condo on the cat tree. I wasn’t fast enough with the camera to get them IN the condo, though. (I got that cat tree at least four years ago off eBay. It’s held up remarkably well for something that hardly cost anything!)
Caleb: “Okay, I have her pinned. Now what?”
Bessie: “::sigh:: Now you bite my neck. How many times do we have to go over this??”
Lap full o’ kittens. Note that Caleb (the gray kitten on the bottom) is all “Cannot. Breathe. Halp?”
“STOP! Collaborate and listen! Caleb’s back with a brand new invention!” (That’s a Vanilla Ice reference, for those of you who aren’t as super-cool as I am. Heh.)
Here, we have Beulah showing Bessie who the boss is. (Hint: NOT Bessie!)
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Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: I was somehow elected to take Newt to the vet, so we boxed him up and put him in my car.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.