Week 12
At the risk of boring you after all, I still keep this up...
They are now twelve weeks old - old enough, officially, to live their own lives without mother or siblings. As it is, however, they're staying with us nonetheless, and with their old mother. (Sometimes, it looks as though they're as tall as their old mother already.)
'náro has turned into a little attention whore. He'll sit somewhere and look at you expectantly. Then you have to pet him just a little and he'll fall over and melt into a purring furball turning and twisting under your hand so everything can get petted and scratched.
Mr Darcy is a bit more malicious; he'll occasionally allow the same, but as soon as you're busy squeeing about his enormous cuteness, he'll slam his needle-sharp little claws into your hand, or gnaw on your fingers.
They have also developed the nasty habit of climbing in our meagre little palm tree and dangling from the trunk until they levered it out of the flowerpot. They also threw the poor phallic cactus off the windowsill and destroyed the fern some more...
But enough of the tell, now comes the show!
Lazy bunch.
Chillin', dude.
This is art! Somehow.
And this is the brotherly love again.
Mr Darcy's first forays into the world of literature (extra points to anyone guessing all most books. Especially those on the upper shelf. ;))
... whereas Fëanáro hunts the shiny. Figures.
Nothing's safe anymore.
iGlare.
Kittens and the wide world
See, that's what I mean by "they look as tall as their mother".
Why do I foresee a kitten dangling from that tail?
All your couch are belong to us.
What do you mean, this is no running wheel?
You make my world go round, baby.
WAR!
Peace.
They are now twelve weeks old - old enough, officially, to live their own lives without mother or siblings. As it is, however, they're staying with us nonetheless, and with their old mother. (Sometimes, it looks as though they're as tall as their old mother already.)
'náro has turned into a little attention whore. He'll sit somewhere and look at you expectantly. Then you have to pet him just a little and he'll fall over and melt into a purring furball turning and twisting under your hand so everything can get petted and scratched.
Mr Darcy is a bit more malicious; he'll occasionally allow the same, but as soon as you're busy squeeing about his enormous cuteness, he'll slam his needle-sharp little claws into your hand, or gnaw on your fingers.
They have also developed the nasty habit of climbing in our meagre little palm tree and dangling from the trunk until they levered it out of the flowerpot. They also threw the poor phallic cactus off the windowsill and destroyed the fern some more...
But enough of the tell, now comes the show!
Lazy bunch.
Chillin', dude.
This is art! Somehow.
And this is the brotherly love again.
Mr Darcy's first forays into the world of literature (extra points to anyone guessing all most books. Especially those on the upper shelf. ;))
... whereas Fëanáro hunts the shiny. Figures.
Nothing's safe anymore.
iGlare.
Kittens and the wide world
See, that's what I mean by "they look as tall as their mother".
Why do I foresee a kitten dangling from that tail?
All your couch are belong to us.
What do you mean, this is no running wheel?
You make my world go round, baby.
WAR!
Peace.
