It's a Sleepy Kitten Afternoon
I have a batch of fosterlings. They go back on Friday and I'm trying to think of some names but I can't quite put my finger on it.
The gray kitten is the only boy. He is something like I would imagine Henry the Eighth as a kitten. Strong sense of entitlement, indolent and gluttonous. He climbs my back with sharp kitten claws then curls up in the crook of my elbow to purr and nap.
I call her pretty girl because she's just so darn pretty. She is the kitten most likely to perch on my shoulder and snuffle at my ear. You can see in the picture her strong desire to jump on me if only the camera wasn't in the way.
Scaredy Kitten. She is alarmed by everything. She is getting better. If I had another week she would be pretty well adjusted for the adoption floor.
Five in all. Two are just normal kittens whose only real stand-out qualities are a propensity to be funny lookin' and an obsessive desire to poop immediately after I scoop the litterbox.
This time I blocked off the entire kitchen as Kitten Land and that worked really well. They breached the wall 3 days ago so that now I go to sleep to the sound of kitten wars rampaging across the continent, I mean carpet.
In the morning I awake to kittens playing King of the Mountain on my ass. That's my favorite part.