Beginning to relax now. Catching sight of my cats helps, even though they are looking daggers at him.
Millie is in shock She's the baby round here! She hates him. She hates me. Grrrr. Hum. Hiss.
And the next morning, he's up and looking perky. The state of his cage suggests that he's had a bout of hooliganism in the night. He's taking treats from my fingers, playing with toys, and looking like a boy who might not need to be confined for too long.
Millie still isn't happy, but she can go off patrol now and again, even though she looks like she's chewing a wasp.
Lottie keeps reminding me how cute and fluffy she is, and how much we love each other. True. You too, Millie. There's more love than enough here, including a bit for a scrap of a kitten.
5 comments:
Such a little sweetie. Does he have a name? I'm sure Millie will come around, when she realises that there is someone else to take the blame for stealing the butter!
Sweet boy! He does have a slightly manic look in his eyes; I would hate to be a catnip mouse!
No, I'm not giving him a name, because I don't want to get too attached. Two hours after those pictures, he's been stroked (purr PURR), picked up, played with, had his cage reorganised to increase floor space for wild play, and might be out soon - I need to kitten-proof the kitchen first!
Adorable. I don't think I could stop myself from becoming too attached.
I think Millie's going to love him ... and Oliver is beside himself and turning green with anticipated potential jealousy he's been schemingp to stow away on one of the big salt ships that leave our harbour. He's thinking if he can get himself to the coast of Newfoundland he'll find a boat crossing the pond ... if he can only get there in time - and Tyne.
She wonders what on earth she'll do without Don her dapper creative director. Oh My ... stay tuned
She & Oliver
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