Yesterday morning, after I announced that I’d gotten love from Smudge Bunny, I went upstairs into the foster room, and the little brat hissed and ran and hid from me. Apparently, the trick is that you have to pick her up and hold her for a minute, and then the light goes on in her head that “Hey! I like this petting stuff!” and she turns into a love slut. If you just try to coax her over, you won’t have any luck.

HG still isn’t up for the petting, but he’ll chase the toys I toss for him, and he doesn’t hide from me, so that’s an improvement over the first day.

You can see the streak of orange on her tail.

GORGEOUS blue eyes.

The foster kitties over the past couple of years have done some serious damage to this guy.

“Hellew.” (You can see the hourglass shape on his stomach.)

A wee bit high.

HG plays with a straw, while Smudge Bunny looks on disapprovingly.


Fred put this cat bed up on top of the bookcase in the kitchen. Joe Bob claimed it as his own, but this morning when I walked into the kitchen, the bed was on the floor, and Joe Bob hasn’t been back up there since – but Stinkerbelle has. Hmmm.


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