Gender Bias Here?

The human can't help but notice that while Cloud is smart enough not to play with Petunnia's tail, Cyrano is not...

MUCH later, BUT STILL ADORABLE...! 

A few weeks later... 

Another neo-nate pic - the baby girls are mostly around the edge, with Petunnia at six o'clock; the little b&w boys are in between... 

The "S" Word

Once the Fancy Feast process is set in motion, it is impossible to keep up with Cyrrie's sense of anticipation - moving at warp 8, the human cannot outrun the creative whimpers, the acrobatic capering, and above all those big desperate brown eyes...
Cyrano counters, We hate it when she falls back on sarcasm....

More Petunnia Reminiscening

The flea crisis triggered the housing shortage: the mama cat and the babes got the bedroom, while the human slept on the living room floor with the "regular" cats...

Rhetorical Question

Why is it that one ones who don't get hairballs are the ones who actually like the hairball medicine?

Cat nest: What happens if you get distracted while folding laundry... 

Back To Petunnia

Crisis: Did you know that even one flea can endanger a neo-nate kitten? to say nothing of the human's peace-of-mind...

Not So Vigilant

Cyrano is disappointed when the cat food shaped bag of potting soil turns out to be... potting soil.

Vigilant Kitten

So, when the human re-pots a shrimp plant and brings it in from the porch, how long does it take Cloud to 1) notice, and 2) nibble...?

Cyrrie insists: I was exciting, too... 

Another exciting Sunday afternoon for Cloud... 

Petunnia Arrives

When the kittens finally got around to being born, it was, of course, at the least convenient moment for the human. On a must-go-to-work day, when the human went to feed, etc., the little pregnant cat, she, the little cat, was purring that very loud purr that they purr when they're in labor. And on closer inspection (warning, gruesome detail here) a tiny little paw was visible, totally rigid, tiny little claws extended. In no time at all, the little cat was warmly packaged, in the car, and on the way to the, thankfully, nearby veterinary hospital. About halfway there, there was a blood-curdling scream. Once inside, as the doctor unwrapped the little cat, she, the doctor, smiled - kitten #1 (not Petunnia) had arrived safe and well. The human went off to teach 2 classes, and when she finally checked in with the "vetz", we were up to 3. By the time the human came to take everyone back home, there were 5: 2 little black and white males (one being Joshua) and 3 tri-colors: a classic calico, a tortoiseshell, and Petunnia, who is a calico with tabby stripes, which should be called a cabby but isn't.

It's Back Already

As she left this morning for work, the human very thoughtfully threw the new toy-thing down the basement stairs. Coming home tonight, she stepped on it in the dark hallway. (It felt very strange.)

Petunnia Official Origin Story, Part II

The kittens did not come any minute, or even any day. In fact the days dragged out, with the little pregnant cat living in the can cupboard (actually a room in the basement, probably about 10' long by 4' deep). The kittens did not come and did not come and did not come. It was very suspenseful and nerve-wracking to live through, but, as you can see, very boring to tell (or read) about.

They take responsibility for their own toys / games... 

Amazing Kitten Creativity

This was going to be a sad post: The lint catcher had become history. It was old, and the rubber was a bit brittle, and eventually the little basket part crumbled under the strain of all those kitten teeth, all those trips all the way up the basement stairs... It seems that without the basket part, the kittens can't get a grip, as it were, so the flat, empty ring has been lying abandoned on the basement floor for the last 2 days. The human had resolved to go to a hardware store to see if she could get them a replacement. Instead, the kittens took things in paw (or tooth), and found their own replacement: The human came home tonight to find a little sprig of plastic piny-looking stuff sitting at the top of the basement stairs. It had previously been attached to a Christmas basket located on a pile of other stuff located on a chair in, of course, the basement... The human has not yet gone down to look at the pile of other stuff, but she expects the worst.... Pic to follow!

Petunnia Post Postponed But Not For Long

Negotiation -
Human says to Cyrrie: If I kiss you, can I also give you FF; Cyrano says, Sure thing, Deal, Deal, Whatever...!

Fair Warning

Chapter 2 of Petunnia's origin story is going to be... boring...!

And More

OK, the vanity in the bathroom is really old and ugly - cheap plywood, falling apart, cheap chipped plastic, etc. It was there when we moved in. (But inertia is good thing, right?) The cabinet door was also cheap and ugly, with that kind of woven rope-stuff glued to the plywood... Well, now, since kitten or kittens so far not named in this investigation used it as a scratching post, it's just glue glued to the plywood, in a woven pattern... Nice.

About The Peaches

There were two of them, two peaches that is - I'm sure it's only a coincidence that there are also two kittens. The peaches, which were not fully ripe, were in a bag, and the bag was in a bag, but it was still the human's fault for absent-mindedly leaving the bag/s on the dining room table top. The next morning, there is something quite sinister looking on the dining room floor. On closer examination, it is one very punctured peach; the other peach is missing. (It was located later, under the table, somewhat less punctured.)

"Peaches" And More

You (perhaps) won't believe what they (aka kittens) did last - all I (human) can say is, IAGTTC! Details to follow...

Another Bowl Of Crunchies Gets Blown Up

It is strange, but it does seem that, statistically speaking, bowls of health food crunchies get nuked somewhat more often than bowls of junk food crunchies. Hmmm...

We think of Petunnia as dominating the table top, but under the table is (and was) her turf as well... 

No matter what it looks like, the human was NOT poking tiny Toonya in the ear... 

Sleeping Styles

Cloud likes to sleep on bones: toe bones, ankle bones, shin bones and knee bones, to be precise. She doesn't even mind that the bones keep moving...

Therapy Blogging

"I am not born... yet." The Story of Petunnia is going to beat David Copperfield, if only chronologically: The pretty little tabby cat looked plump and sleek, at least until the human picked her up and realized she was seriously with kitten/s. The human hoped like anything that the little cat had a home, but she started feeding her, anyway. The weather was fine, though, early Fall, and so there was no immediate kitnap plan... Finally, however, the human came home late late on Devil's Night, and when the little pregnant cat was waiting on her porch, she knew she had no proper home. So after a whole can of human style tuna, the little cat was toted inside, to her new and very comfy home in the can cupboard. The human expected kittens any day, if not any minute...

Our Human

She's having a hard time right now, but we'll be back soon... After all, she has us!

Globally depressed human envies Cyrrie's ability to curl up/in and snooze... 

All Kittened Out

Cloud snoozing with hard-won trophies... 

Cloud was on the way to see Dr. Kelly - but now, she says, Please think about the lost kittens and cats - and even puppies and dogs! - in New Orleans - and donate to the Humane Society... 

Crash!

Not the sort of sound you want to wake up to - however, it was slightly muffled, suggesting the basement rather than, say, the dining room china cabinet... So, sans contact lenses, the human goes downstairs, and sure enough, the "shelving" which consisted of pots and old table leaves, precariously balanced, which never-the-less had stood for more than a decade, is now, well, not... Kittened, of course. Human's response is to - panic! Where are the kittens?? Cyrrie surfaces as the human walks through the kitchen (possibility of food, right). But where is Cloud??? One step away from popping the top off a can of Fancy Feast, the human resports to the laser pointer, and Cloud, unharmed, comes running, and joyfully rumpusses up and down the hall, chasing that favorite little red spot. IAGTTC.