The Noms have learned that Jake is a good friend to have.
Newbery and Jake, bonding.
Newbery gets a little big for his britches, and starts trying to pick a fight with Jake.
Jake’s no shrinking violet and gets all “I WILL BITE YOUR EAR OFF!”, then stomps off in a huff.
Leaving Newbery to wonder “Where’d he GO?”
Newbery and the Ears of Annoyance.
That’s Razzie in the background, keeping him company while he keeps an eye on the other cats in the house.
Pretty, pretty boy.
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I can’t believe that I told y’all the new guys’ names on Friday and that they’ll collectively be known as the Taters, but I didn’t explain why. They’re going to be known as the Taters because they’re all named after kind of potatoes!
(When I told Fred I was going to name them after potatoes, he said “Like ‘Baked’ and ‘Boiled’?” Ha ha.)
Russet’s floofy little face just makes me want to pick him up and kiss him 1,000 times.
Norland gives Russet a quick clean. (I understand that Russet’s floofy fur tastes like cotton candy.)
It’s exhausting to be this cute, I’m telling you.
Agata and her huge Precious Moments eyes.
“Who… me? Um, nothing. I wasn’t going anywhere. Honest!”
Kennebec, who looks a lot like Norland. He’s a lot smaller, though.
FLOOF!
Norland is possibly the friendliest kitten I’ve EVER fostered. He’s a great big lovebug.
Not sure the basket can contain all that fluff, Russet.
Did I mention that this kind of cuteness is exhausting to keep up?
Norland, slightly annoyed.
Norland and Russet are actually off to the vet this morning to be neutered. They’re more than big enough, and I could have left them to be neutered last Thursday. But I wanted to get them home and get to know them first, which I have been doing, and now I’d like to get the neutering over with. So these guys are going to be neutered today, and the Noms are going tomorrow. It’s going to be a neuter-and-spaypalooza ’round here!
The little Taters are still too small to be neutered and spayed, so they’ll wait for a bit.
Speaking of the little Taters – Kennebec, Agata and Fianna – they are starting to come out of their shells. By Saturday they were playing a rousing game of “OMG I SNIFFED THE HUMAN AND LIVED!”, and then Kennebec would get caught up in playing and Fred would pet him, and he’d roll over and purr and then do a double-take and say “OMG A HUMAN IS TOUCHING ME! DANGER! DANGER!” and run off.
Sunday morning, I petted Kennebec and Fianna, which they enjoyed a great deal. Then I stopped petting them and moved away, and it wasn’t long before they approached me and asked why I’d stopped. They’re still skittish, but I’m not worried. They’ll be great big lovebugs soon enough.
After the scarily intense eyes of Emmy (when I think of her, I think of her sounding like Charlize Theron in Snow White and the Huntsman, bellowing “YOU WILL NOT PET ME, HUMAN!”), some skittish kittens are not the least bit scary to me.
I mean, not that kittens that size could ever truly be scary (anything cuter than a hissing kitten? I think not!), but I’m less inclined to sit back and let them come to me these days.
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Jakey? Why so loony?
“Why not?”
Indeed.
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Previously
2011: No entry.
2010: The cheek!
2009: “Pipe down, Phyllis, this one is mine!”
2008: Kaylee wubs Tigger.
2007: Good thing we put SoftPaws on his claws, right? So he can’t go climbing trees or anything. Right?
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.