food, crochet, merriment
I positively LOVE this phase of the kitty-ness!
You know that place where they’re eyes are open…
and they’re starting to prance around a bit…
but they’re not quite climbing the curtains yet.
THAT phase almost makes it easier to give them away.
Almost.
But not really.
We have four new, sweet kitties!! This time, it’s Chili that’s the mom.
She must have had them VERY quickly because when we first found them–Rhen ALWAYS hears them first!–they were all still wet.
And Miss Chili was so sweet to have them in the laundry basket that I set up for her–not under the couch or somewhere else all crazy.
Do you hear that Lyla?
She looks pretty dang happy. What a good little mama.
Since Lyla has retired from her kitty-mommy days–her fir has really grown in and gone nuts. Being half Persian and half Maine Coon–that adds up to tons of awesome hair and a surprisingly fluffy tail.
Apparently, the extra fluff has even caught her by surprise. She’s been playing with this crazy new “toy” all afternoon–not realizing it’s… you know…attached.
I had to force myself not to laugh out loud when she pulled her own tail so hard that she almost flipped herself. The best part was when she looked all scandalized in my direction– like I had done something to her.
Lyla may be a little…ummm…slow on the uptake–so-to-speak, but she’ll save us a fortune on cat toys.
If our little Lyla was not a cat, but a person instead–she would be that flirty girl in “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
Remember that scene where the girl says, “Oh, this old thing? I only wear this when I don’t care how I look!”
The smile she smiles–right there as she prances away from all the guys, with their jaws hanging open.
That is Lyla…
…the flirt.
We should have named her Violet.
This little fellow may look sort of ok, but this was 2 days after he was hit by a car. We didn’t actually see the accident but Rhen saw him out in the street…looking like he’d been run over.
Rhen ran out to get him but when he got close enough to pick him up, Hobbes just bolted and ran into the backyard. We searched for him for 4 hours without any luck.
We finally found him in the farthest corner of the basement–curled up in a ball and hiding out. I didn’t dare go to him–because he gets feisty with me when he’s scared or hurt. But Rhen went right up and started petting him. The poor guy could hardly raise his head but started purring.
He seemed to be banged up mostly on his head–kinda like he had run into the car–rather than the car running into him. If that makes sense.
I called all kinds of vets to see if they could help but they all said that if he was moving around and didn’t have any broken bones, then he’d likely be ok.
Sure hope so, poor guy.
