Saturday, June 23, 2007

The 3 Blondes

In this case, the three blondes in question are the golden tabbies in the Frieda Farrell's Litter of 5: they had been named generically Abel, Baker & Charlie. They took time out from their active schedule recently to pose for pictures.

In the first one, Baker's looking at a food dish while Charlie and Abel look like they're getting ready to rehearse the Rumble Scene from West Side Story. (That's Blanche in the background.)

Charlie is the Great Purrer, usually the first one to greet me when I come into their bedroom, feeding time or not. He is lobbying hard to be kept, always showing me how cute he can be. In this picture, he's making one last primp to look good for the camera as Baker tells him to sit up "or we'll be here all day."

In the next shot, Abel, who has turned into an expert belly-rubber (or perhaps the right word would be 'rubbee') and who's become something of the class comic, advises Charlie to move over "just a bit" because he's covering Baker.

And then the last shot, taken before they all took off in three different directions, is one like many parents get with their kids, finally, completely bored with the whole camera thing. But it was amazing that they stayed in one place long enough that I was able to snap the pictures I got!

Baker is getting over being the Aloof One and has recently been seen eating canned food: he was the last one to be fully weaned, caught eating adult dry food when he was 53 days old but never coming out of hiding to eat with the rest of them. I thought perhaps he might turn out to be a drybivore (one who eats only dry bits) though in the past couple of days he has been spotted chowing down on a plate of Chicken & Tuna, proving that he can be a canivore, as well. I wouldn't mind any of them being drybivores since I have to put down bowls of each for the other cats already, but we'll see how they develop. Baker is also getting more acclimated to being picked up and held, a move that would have had him running for cover last week, still. Perhaps a few chin scratches and belly rubs helped him overcome the advice his mom had given them about the Big People.

Frieda, their mother, has now graduated to lurking around the bedroom, having finally come out from behind the toilet, now that her kittens spend 95% of their time running around the larger room and sleeping either on the old stuffed chair or under the double beds. She still won't let me get near her, but one small step at a time. It will take a tranquilizing gun to get her to the vets...

It's amazing, after handling these little furballs, how big my other cats seem.

They haven't been fully introduced yet though Max managed to sneak into the room when the door blew open after not having been latched properly: he ran back out into the hallway as if he'd just discovered the room was full of these tiny manic fur-covered energy fields bouncing around all over the place (he probably thought there might have been 20 of them, judging from his expression). They will be 8 weeks old on Monday and their energy level increases exponentially with each passing week.

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