I'm soothing the sting of the sudden loss of Andy by bathing myself in kittens. When I start to feel really sad, I go into their bathroom and let them play around me and climb on my lap. They're so mobile and fuzzy now, I would defy even those in Al Qaeda from thinking they were adorable. One in particular, the black and white girl that is the spitting image of Bandit, has seemed to stand out to me. She climbs on my lap as soon as I sit down and plays with my hand, or just sits on my arm/leg and watches her siblings romp and play on the floor.
This evening I was overcome with total cute overload, however. The girl - we've temporarily named her Bandita, though I call her BJ for Bandit Junior - broke away from nursing and came over to me. She climbed all the way up to my chest (i cupped her butt so she didn't fall) and promptly fell asleep. This tiny kitty, about the size of my outstretched hand, slept cupped in my hand AND DREAMED. I wonder what dreams month-old kittens have, but they only last about 2 minutes. She then woke up, realized she was on me, seemed a little disoriented, and mewed. I put her down and she immediately went back to her mom.
I'm loving watching how these little creatures become more and more cat-like every day. Amazing stuff.
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