Get up, ya lazy little slackers.
“But… I don’t wanna get up! And what’s a slacker?”
“Slacker is a funny word. Slacker. Slacker. SLACKER!” (Roux)
“We can slack if we want to, lady.”
There’s a pocket on the end of the crate, and they find it endlessly fascinating.
In case you wondered what Praline’s tummy looks like.
They were nursing, and then they started wrasslin’, and Nola just stared off and thought of England.
I weighed the kittens Tuesday, and except for Beignet, they are all over one pound. Andouille was at exactly one pound, Roux was 1 pound .2 oz, and Praline is at 1 pound .8 oz. Beignet is at 14.7 ounces.
They’re still stuffing litter in their mouths and spitting it out all over the room, so they’ve gotten acquainted with the broom. The broom makes Nola nervous, but those kittens aren’t skeered.
Andouille is now climbing into my lap and hanging out. I suspect it won’t be too long before his sisters are joining him. They’ve discovered the scratcher and are climbing over it, and have ventured out to the other parts of the room – but the main focus of their adventures take place in and around the crate.
I have not yet squeezed them ’til the marshmallow fluff leaked out their ears, but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold off.
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Video! Andouille is still working on his skittering skills. (You have GOT to see the part about 5 seconds in when he pretty much takes a couple of steps on his front legs. Kills me.)
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Dewber Dew (aka Dewey) in the hammock bed in Fred’s room, giving me attitude.
So, Frankie is a talker who likes to walk around the house talking. He does it a lot at night after Fred kicks everyone out of his room and shuts the door. I tend not to really hear it, but some evenings – especially when he’s particularly insistent – it drives me nuts. The other night he was at the other end of the house and he was going on and on and onnn and I had finally had enough.
“OH MY GOD, FRANKIE, PLEASE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GIVE IT A REST!” I bellowed as I turned around.
Only to see Frankie at the water bowl minding his own beeswax.
Turns out Dewey is also a talker.
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Previously
2016: Here we have Ken Adams on top, Susie inside, all “NO THIS IS MINE!” and Art Vandelay keeping an eye on things.
2015: This one kills me dead every single day.
2014: No entry.
2013: “NO, I DON’T WANT TO DANCE WITH YOU!”
2012: Nothin’ cuter than a ::FLOOF::ing kitten. Unless it’s a ::FLOOF::ing kitten who’s hissing.
2011: “Madame, please. I beg of you, stop sniffing my hindquarters. It is so RUDE.”
2010: It appears we’ve got an infestation of kittens again. ::sigh:: WHERE do they come from??
2009: I swear she looks just like a little bulldog.
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.