So I hate to break this to y’all, but there is just NO WAY I’m gonna fit 15 kittens up on the shelf where I usually stuff entire litters of kittens and take their kittens-in-a-row pic. It’d be fun to try (in theory), but I would worry too much about some (or several) of them leaping down from the shelf to the desk or missing the desk and leaping all the way to the floor.
(This is not to say that I might not get a wild hair and try it anyway… but I truly don’t imagine they’ll fit.)
I decided I’d do each litter – 5 kittens each – on their own, and started with the Wild West bunch. I mean, 5 kittens is practically a vacation, right? I can do that with my eyes closed?
Someone’s always gotta make it hard.
If only Buffalo Bill had been looking this way. (I love Wild Bill’s paw on top of Calamity Jane’s head.)
Buffalo Bill, marching to the beat of his own drum.
4 outta 5 ain’t bad. (Grrr, Buffalo Bill.) Left to right: Wild Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane, Davy Crockett and Annie Oakley (Buffalo Bill in the back checking out the structural integrity of the shelf.)
Hush Puppy and Onion Ring love to hang out in that spot.
Wild Bill senses he’s being watched.
Candy Apple is letting me know that Halloween is over and it’s time to put that box away.
“I SEES YOU, LADY!” Annie Oakley looks like she’s smiling while yelling at me.
I always imagine Wild Bill as sounding like Squiggy from Laverne and Shirley, all “Hallo!”
Davy Crockett always looks like he thinks he’s doing something wrong.
All 15 kittens (I counted twice to make sure they were all present and accounted for!)
Alice Mo and the ol’ razzle dazzle. (That house is looking pretty rough, no? Maybe it needs to be painted.)
2019: Henri and Gabrielle, all “You again?”
2018: Clutch reflects that someone should clean that window.
2017: No entry.
2016: Kittens up close.
2015: I fully expect that I’ll come through surgery just fine. I also hope that I do not, while under the influence, tell my surgeon that he reminds me of Sam the Eagle.
2014: Von seems to have a heaping helping of Outrage going on here.
2013: Time for a Tony teef check. One… two. Two pointy little teef.
2012: No entry.
2011: (hey, don’t you want to come over for a cookout? We can hang out in the back yard! No, really, take your shoes off and walk around!)
2010: Grumpy boy.
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: Good thing they’re not our cats, huh?
2006: No entry.
2005: One should always stretch well after a smackdown is completed.