The kittens have been assigned their names! Meet them now…
Kitten #1, who is totally orange.
He’s little, he’s a thinker and an observer, he’s adorable. He’s Ponyboy.
Kitten #2, the bobtail brown tabby.
He’s a flirt, he’s a charmer, he’s movie-star handsome. He’s Sodapop.
Kitten #3, the orange and white tuxie bobtail.
He’s serious, he’s hard-working, he’ll have none of your shenanigans. He’s Darry.
Kitten #4, the orange and white cutie pie.
He’s sweet, he’s silly, he’s the first to let you rub his belly (and then gently bunny-kick your hand). He’s Two-Bit.
They are, of course, named after characters from S.E. Hinton’s novel The Outsiders (or, if you prefer, the Francis Ford Coppola movie starring C. Thomas Howell (Ponyboy), Rob Lowe (Sodapop), Patrick Swayze (Darry), and Emilio Estevez (Two-Bit), not to mention Matt Dillon, Ralph Macchio, Tom Cruise, AND MORE.)
I had originally thought I’d call these guys The Outsiders, but I worry that someone might stumble across a reference to them as The Outsiders, immediately decide that they’re outside cats and adopt them under that impression no matter what the adoption counselors tell them (don’t laugh, you know it could happen). So instead, I’m going to call them The Greasers (I could call them The Insiders, I suppose, but I prefer The Greasers.)(Counting down to the first time I have to tell someone that these kittens aren’t greasy…)
So, the Greasers are doing well. They’re still not approaching me, but they’re all purring, they’ve all let me rub their bellies, and they don’t cringe away from me when I pet them. They are crazy little things who play wildly at night and in the mornings, and they’re eating well (I walked into the room yesterday morning to two nearly empty food bowls). Fred, who takes timid kittens as a challenge, goes into the room to talk to and pet them many times a day. They can be lured into playing (especially Two-Bit and Sodapop) with the feather teaser.
From left to right: Sodapop, Ponyboy (up top), Two-Bit (bottom), and Darry.
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Newt in his favorite spot. I’ve learned to keep that part of the counter clear, otherwise I’m likely to walk in and find everything that WAS in that corner on the floor. Newt’s not messing around.
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Previously
2015: No entry.
2014: Cats. Like. Boxes. Like, a lot. A LOT.
2013: Pardon me, Norbs. You appear to have a kitten in your armpit.
2012: Meredith Grey (in the front), disapproves of such shenanigans, as do her judgey cohorts.
2011: They were all just like ::shrug:: “yeah, it’s Buster. So?”
2010: God, Corby. I wish you’d learn to relax a little. You’re stressing me out!
2009: I told Fred the other night that if we were going to keep Sam (which we’re not), I’d have to rename him Tigger, because he bounces! all! over! the! place!
2008: No entry.
2007: Later, when I relayed the experience to Fred, he said “You realize that during your entire story, the Benny Hill music was playing in the back of my head, right?”
2006: Meeting Maddy.
2005: What is it with kitties loving to chew on wet hair?