The Adolescent Cat from Hell is really beginning to look more cat than kitten. She still acts all kitten though. She hasn’t forgotten how to play fetch yet (though I know she will grow out of it eventually), she still bats her rag-taggle furry mice throughout the apartment, and she still thinks she can sit on my shoulder. Here’s the latest portrait of my not-so-little monster:
She has discovered Clueless Wonder’s playhouse, and made it her own. She spends much of her sleep-time cozied away in the house, with just enough peaking out to look too-cute and way-posed. Too-cute this is; way-posed this is not. Just ACfH being her sweet self:
Clueless Wonder is now down to thirteen pounds! I’ll keep him on the diet until the weekend, but we just might celebrate his making his goal with a tin of cat food (a treat he seldom gets because it’s bad for his teeth, and I have enough trouble with a cardiac-cat without having to worry about putting him under anesthesia). Here is His Sveltness, looking quite handsome, if you ask me:
One thing CW does miss is his playhouse. Since ACfH discovered it and made it her own, he’s shown renewed interest in sleeping in it himself. Unfortunately, the moment he enters the house, ACfH figures he’s fair game for play. CW wants to sleep, ; ACfH wants to wrestle. CW is big enough to keep her out of the house, but ACfH will wait and bat at him from the outside for half an hour or more before CW gets fed up with the nonsense and tries to make his escape. Of course, when he does try to get out, ACfH is right there, waiting to pounce:
Everyone should have a cat or three about the place, to teach them the meaning of play.