My black shadow

I was home for hours this morning, and the kittens & cat made the most of it. Brat followed me around the house. Not only followed me, but anticipated my movements. In the kitchen, I moved from the freezer to the counter, and he walked all three feet with me. I moved from the counter to the table, and practically stepped on him. I moved from the table to the stove, and did step on him, but barely. I felt the soft fuzziness of a tail beneath my bare feet, and managed to lurch away before my full weight crunched down. Brat still cried out as if I'd actually stepped on him. Shameless bid for a head scratch?

Bug du jour

I yell, "BUG!" and it's first come, first serve...

This morning's offering was a leggy little morsel, about 1.5 inches long, nasty as hell. I opened the bathroom door on tiptoes and with shivery spine. Kai came racing in and knew just what to do. I found bits of leg scattered on the floor once the carnage was complete. Gross.

Illegal activity

Dancing on tables

Birds in the trees

Sharing the blue light

Inclusion policy

MeeraKai no longer keep it in the family. Or rather, they've expanded their definition of 'family.'

Brat has become one of their targets of random, unpredictable violence. Should I be alarmed, or should I convince the Old Man that it's a sign of acceptance, of comfortable familiarity? Silly lady, no convincing necessary...

This morning in the kitchen, Meera (5 pounds, wet) aimed a left hook at Brat (15 pounds, on an empty stomach). Keep in mind: Meera has finely honed the Art of Invisibility when it comes time to trim nails. And Brat...well, his former owner (we're trying not to pass judgement here) had him declawed. So you see the odds were not at all even. Add to this the fact that Meera moves like the wind (Brat can pass wind...does this count?). She's younger. And she's got that "You shouldn't hit a girl," thing going for her.

So I ran for my sweet old boy, prepared to soothe his ruffled fur, bolster his shattered ego, and wash and bandage any fresh wounds...

But wouldn't you know it? By the time I got there, Brat had swung his paw so hard at Meera's head that his other front paw actually lifted off the ground! While simultaneously hissing! And then he took a step in her direction! I think it was the step that did it. Meera fled, and Brat turned, victorious, full of the old glory, and creaked back to his dusty old chair.

Five...four...three...two...

Eye of Kai, eye of the dragon

Kai NOT posing for the camera

Off-screen kitten makes a face at Brat...there's fury in them there eyes...

Meera grokking our new toy

Alternative to suction cups

Stainless steel tension rods!

No more accidentally driving over defenseless bird feeders! (Lizzzzziiiiiee.....)

Must consult with the munchkins to see if this would be a worthwhile purchase. (I hear Meera telepathicking: "Yes! Yes!")

More than you ever wanted to know: http://www.bestnest.com/bestnest/lc/lc_window_bird_feeder_faq.asp

Cats on film (in bits 'n' bytes?)

The spankin' new Canon is sitting on Someone's dining room table in Dearborn, even as I write, so painfully out of reach... My kingdom for Go-go Gadget arms.

Cuteness ceases to exist til I can get my finger on that shutter button. Kai's silly belly flops on the kitchen floor. His finger nips, fishbreath and all. Brat's sweet nose rub, the way he reaches out with his face to touch mine. Meera's absolute genius on the basketball court...

I refuse to look til tomorrow morning, and then...oh hoho, then!!

This morning's recipe

One horrendous bee's nest of tri-cattal hissing, two loud dull thumps, and a pinch of tiny nails against glass. Cats! fighting for living room window space, from which precious real estate they crane their necks up to spy on little birdies hanging over the gutter. Or, as in Meera's case, throw their bodies against the glass in a birdblood lustful frenzy of want...

Grumpsy

Found out the camera is just now shipping out of PA. Estimated arrival date: June 12. Don't the powers that be realize that I'm missing achingly cute poses?? Art that will forever remain trapped in my head...

It's the little things in life

This new litter is going to revolutionize our lives. I can feel it. And look at the cute little clumps!...

An invasion of his personal space

It happens again and again, just at feeding time.

Brat plants himself in the middle of the kitchen floor, solid, patient, & all-knowing. "The food comes out of that cupboard, she's the one who gets it for me, and when she starts downstairs to fill my bowl, that's when I'll move from this spot."

The kittens...so young! so naive! so wasteful of good energy!...race up and down the stairs, mewing piteously, curling around my legs, stretching way high up against the cupboards to see whether I've taken out the correct number of FF cans...

...and then, inevitably, Kai loses his head in the excitement of dinner time, and instead of curling against my legs, he curls himself right under Brat's nose. It shocks Brat every time, as if it had never happened before. He kind of half-snorts, and jerks his head back. If Kai is smart enough to keep moving and leave the room, Brat quickly recovers and resumes his dignified waiting. If Kai continues to use Brat as his personal rubbing post, Brat lets loose a half-strangled hiss, part threat and part hairball. It's pathetic to hear, and it must shame Brat to have it escape his lips because he always leaves the room right after. A few minutes later, he joins us in the basement, and quietly begins eating (inches away from Kai's face...no problem now).

Repairs

Big loud man clomps through house early-early. Ceramic sink hulks sideways, oddly, on bathroom floor. Water drips everywhere!

Bathroom door left open for four hours this morning (oh joy!)...tiny mud prints on stairs, in kitchen, on windowsills, in bed, shout "Us catz wuz here!" and the lady is not pleased.

Milk it, Meera, ye queen of flights down flights

"If you don't stop fussing over me," she warns, writhing in ecstasy, "I'm going to run away and hide in my favorite corner of the basement."

I'm kneading her back, checking for soreness. "If you run away," I whisper into her ear, "I will run after you, for I would miss you like fire."

"If you run after me," she whispers back, "I will join the circus and become their Fantastical Fire-Eating Feline."

"If you join the circus, I will become a tight-rope walker, with Kai in front of me and Brat behind. We'll grip with our toes and cross the rope to gather you up and take you home."

I run my hands down her legs. No bumps. I rest my hands in my lap for a moment and smile at the sparse warm skin in front of her ears--where my favorite cat smell resides. I lean in. But she's not one for patience, tiny toothed Meerabel. The teeth unsheath.

"You haven't checked my tail yet! Nor my neck!" (This, as she twists into all sorts of unnatural positions, creating unbroken curves within curves within curves (did she just say "nor"??))

"Launch yourself once down the stairs," my stern voice says, "and you win yourself extra special loving attention. Launch yourself a second time, and you're permanently barred from the upstairs. Capice?"

"Capice." Meow.

Our new arrival! (well, in 3-5 days...)

WHO'S EXCITED??

Badly shaken, but unharmed

Little Girl seems ok, judging by the leaps she's making, the food she's eating, and the strength with which she rolls her head along the entire length of my arm.

To be continued...

Heartache

I write to recover...

This morning there was a terrible crash outside the bathroom door. It started from a great height, and rolled its heartrending way downward, downward, down the stairs and past the bathroom door, amidst a horrible rustling sound. It seemed to last forever! And then silence.

I rushed out to find a grocery bag on the floor, and no sign of cats anywhere. I think I know what happened: when last I left MeeraKai they were wrestling at the top of the stairs, grocery bag a few feet away. One of them must have gotten tangled up and slipped...

In the kitchen, the Elder. Ok. In the living room, no one. Book room, no one, basement, no one! Panic rising, I ran up the stairs to find Kai sitting forlornly in the middle of the floor. (Ok, two down, where's Meera??)

She had tucked herself into the farthest corner underneath my bed, and scootched away when I reached for her. Even the loving, come-hither voice had no effect, and she is a sucker for the knead. But her eyes were clear and alert, and she stared at the toy I dangled...she moved her head quickly when her brother made a sudden jump to the bed...she seemed to have no trouble walking (in her attempt to move further away from my hand).

In the end I had to leave, but will check on her soon. I fear--I don't know what to fear.