Oh Kate, you are the prettiest prettiest prettiest girl.
Leia feels the need to make sure that ALL the toys are properly bunny kicked.
Jareth subtly shows off his claws.
They are the runningest kittens ever, I swear.
Remember the long-legged Cheetah I bought at Petsmart? It’s still a hit with the kittens.
Jareth and the wad of Kate fur. You know, a couple of people suggested ways to get the fur to stick together better (washing it in the toe of a sock in the washing machine, or wetting it and then twisting it together), but it actually seems to be holding together really well with me just rolling it together between my hands.
(I mean, it was holding well together before I accidentally sucked it up with the vacuum cleaner and decided there was no way I was digging through all that fur and litter to save it. RIP, toy made out of Kate’s fur!)
“AM BITING ON MY TOY YOU GO ‘WAY, LADY.”
::leap::
So over the weekend, we opened the door to the foster room so that the Royals could have the run of most of the upstairs (in other words, they get the hallway, Fred’s room, and the bathroom to explore). They thought that was pretty FABULOUS, and for that matter, so did Kate. Kate can jump over the barrier at the end of the hallway, but it’s too high for the kittens. If she wants to get away from the kittens, she comes over the barrier and gets some time away from them, and if she wants back in, she can do that on her own, too. She actually spends most of her time with the kittens, still, but every now and then I’ll look up and see her walking into the room or hanging out on the stairs – or I’ll hear her growling softly at the permanent residents.
The permanent residents, by the way, have zero interest in her. They’re like “Oh, look. Another cat. ::eyeroll::” Jake’s the only exception – if he thinks she’s got food (and I have fed her her snack in the kitchen a couple of times), he’ll get all up in her space and she growls more seriously at him. Which doesn’t scare him at all, so I have to run him off or he’ll stick his head in her plate of food and vacuum it up.
Lisa came to visit on Saturday, and I was pleased to discover that the Royals (Kate included) are not scared of strangers at all. They just sniffed her, licked her feet, and ran around like their butts were on fire. In other words, the usual!
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Here are the Dragons, at 11 days old. Eyes plinked open all over the place over the weekend!
Ruth.
Puff.
Puff again, making sure we know that he’s had ENOUGH of this NONSENSE.
Norbert. Look at those ears!
Scorch. “Are you my mother?”
“YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER! YOU ARE A SNORT!”
Ember.
Puff likes to wobble around the crate, squinting at things and trying to figure out how to touch them.
“Just ignore her, kids. She does that a lot. She means well.”
“WHAT YOU DOIN’ LADY? MAMA, THERE’S A LADY. AND SHE’S SITTING THERE AND WATCHING ME. I THINK SHE’S TALKING, TOO, BUT MY HEARING AIN’T SO GOOD ON ACCOUNT OF I’M SO LITTLE AND MY EARS HAVEN’T POPPED UP YET.”
“You take ONE MORE PICTURE, lady, I dare you. ONE MORE.”
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Miz Poo, wondering if it’s snuggle time.
Lisa can attest that Miz Poo greets everyone at the door as if they’re a long-lost friend and begs them to take her with them. If they sit down, she’s in their lap immediately. Miz Poo, I guess you could say, is a people lover.
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Previously
2012: No entry.
2011: No entry.
2010: Doesn’t he totally look like a Buster?
2009: These kittens love their sleep.
2008: Kara and the babies are continuing to kill me with the cute.
2007: Stupid weeds.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.