525,600 minutes...
Those who've been reading this journal last year may remember a certain post that went along the lines of "I think the cat's in labour".
Yes, that one.
As you know by now, she really was, and this was the result.
They don't look like that anymore, more like this:
And in honour of their birthday, here's some more kittenspam!
... damnit, human, we were sleeping.
Well, now we're awake anyway.
I'll getcha!
Bzuh?
Hah! I conquer!
Not getting up now!
Witness our brotherly love.
... hide me.
My scratching post is my castle.
... why the hell is he lying at my feet?
Ewww toe-kissing.
Dirty brother.
You really don't - ooooh, shiny!
Missing bottle? I don't know what you're talking about. (The Day Fëanáro Stole A Bottle Of Bowmore.)
See, I'm all innocent-like!
This is MY snack. Go away.
So, happy birthday, my preciouses Mr. Darcy and Fëanáro, and many happy returns!
♥♥♥