The kittens are doing well, still racing around like they’re on crack. Last night I took the kitchen scale and a bowl upstairs to weigh them and make sure I’m giving them the right dose of metronidazole, and I left the bowl in the room. At bedtime, when Fred and I went upstairs to hang out with them for a little while, he turned the bowl over on top of Susannah, and said she looked like a hermit crab, and then one single paw stretched out from under the bowl to grab at one of her brothers, and I laughed until I cried because she absolutely did look like a hermit crab. I’ll see if I can’t get some hermit kitten pictures later.
“All right, all right, all RIGHT! I give up! You take the feather toy, it’s yours! Geez. You don’t gotta be so mean about it!”
I love the stripes on this kitten.
Sleepy girl.
“This water tastes funny.”
Brudderly love.
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I am the meanest Momma in all the world. Twice today Sugarbutt was sitting in one of the cat beds on my desk (the one on the left, if you must know), and he sat up and started scratching his neck with his back paw, and so I reached over and pushed on him just a little to get his attention, and as I pushed, I said “STOP IT”, and both times I did it, I startled him, and he fell off the side of the desk and then ran off to lick the embarrassment off his tail.
Stinkerbelle likes to sit and watch the hummingbirds flit back and forth to the feeder. Sometimes she loses it a little and stands on her back legs and smacks at the glass, and the hummingbird flies off and it drives her NUTS.
“Ice cream meks me happy.”
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Previously
2006: So Fred, he’s not only a handyman, he’s also a cat-feeding genius, that’s right.
2005: Best. Picture. EVER.