6-15-23 Thursday

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That one eyebrow whisker over Myrtle’s right eye is goin’ wild. It’s reaching for the stars!

Nick’s just hangin’ out.

Zelda’s all “You again, lady?”

“YES, I know he’s back there.”

Jay’s all “Did someone say ‘milk bar’?”

The kittens met the vacuum cleaner (I usually sweep the foster room – they’ve met the broom PLENTY) and found that they had pressing business in the castle.

“We had a very important meeting!”

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It’s a Rufous pie (my favorite!) and would you look at that perfect little round belly? Remember when he was tiny and fragile and screamy and had to be tube fed? He now weighs just over two pounds! Go, Rufous!

I’ve got a Tater in my lap.

Sleepy Starling.

Though you can’t really see Starling (she’s under Rufous), this picture has all four Nestlings in it.

Starling on the scratcher, lookin’ for trouble.

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Trixie in the front yard, lookin’ pretty. (With the warmer weather, she and Rocco have been roaming a lot.)(Note: Trixie and Rocco belong to a neighbor, but spend a large amount of time on our front porch, in our driveway, and on our lawn. If Charlie didn’t ABSOLUTELY SCREAMINGLY LOATHE them both so much – especially Rocco – I’m sure Fred would have them inside.)

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Posted on social media (Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Tumblr) yesterday.

Wren’s all “I don’t want your stinkin’ bottle” ’til I give it to Rufous and then she’s all “Wait, I’m kinda thirsty!”⁠

Both Wren (9 weeks old) and Rufous (8 weeks old) are in the process of giving up the bottle – they both drink some at each feeding (we’re down to 3 times a day), but not much before they run off to play (obviously, they’re getting most of their nutrition from canned food). MAH BABIES ARE GROWING UP.

Think there’s a feather teaser up there? (From left: Zelda, Myrtle, Jay and Nick)

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If Myrtle says it’s nap time, it’s NAP TIME. Am I gonna argue with her? NOPE.

Jay’s all “How YOU doin’?” I think I interrupted a nap.

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I really don’t see how you’re going to see anything cuter today, so you better sit down and pay attention.

The ceiling fans were on, there was some dust in the air, and Tater (legally known as Plover) was chasing it. How I did not pick her up and squoosh her, I do not know.

It’s a Tater pie, savory but also very, very sweet. (My favorite!)

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Rufous is SO DETERMINED to walk away with those apron strings. One of these days…

Good night innernets. (Zelda)

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Previously
2022: “Please admire these beans.”
2021: Phase 1 of packing is done!
2020: Clyde’s all “HALLO.”
2019: No entry.
2018: No entry.
2017: Two little raccoons.
2016: This adorable puppy!
2015: They have met the vacuum cleaner, and are not impressed. AT ALL.
2014: No entry.
2013: “We’re trying to sleep, here. Can you make him get his big stupid foot out of my face?”
2012: Cicero acted like he’d known those kittens his entire life, and they acted like he was a pesky little brother.
2011: Complaints? She haz them.
2010: Rough life, boys.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: Which reminds me, last time I had a sit-down with The Lord, The Lord informed me that doing what might lead to business on Sunday is FORBIDDEN, but abandoning as many of His Creatures to fend for themselves and be hit by cars and lay dying on the side of the road is A-OK with Him! It’s in the Bible!
2006: No entry.
2005: Poop Watch v. 2.0, currently in progress.

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