Oh, my Wonkas. They sure would like to be set free to run through the entire house. I know this because every time I go upstairs, they crowd the door at the end of the hallway and try to slip through. Mike’s made it halfway down the stairs; Gus was pretty close behind. And after I spend time with them and have to leave to go do something (whether I’ve spent five minutes with them, or an hour, it makes no difference), Mike tries to herd me away from the door.
Actually, I guess what they’re really telling me is that they want to be able to follow me around and sit on my lap 24 hours a day!
LESS than 30 days ’til their Combo test, which (I am certain) will show them to be FIV negative, and I guarantee you that when we get home from the vet that day, the first thing I’m going to do is introduce them to the rest of the house!
Sometimes a man’s gotta DANCE.
So, feeding time in the Cookie room goes like this: we put canned food on two plates, and carry two saucers of watered-down formula into the room. Everyone but Pink runs over and either starts eating off the plate or lapping out of the saucers. Pink comes over to us and gives us the Big Eyes of Hope and meows.
I pick her up and take her into the living room and give her a bottle. And she drinks about a tablespoon at each feeding. Last night, she drank far less than that. But she’s still gaining weight, she’s still healthy, and so I strongly suspect that when we’re not in the room, she’s eating out of the bowl of Baby Cat we keep full at all times.
In fact, Tuesday afternoon I was sitting in the room with them, and I glanced over to see her eating a piece of food from the bowl. Then it was like she remembered – “Oh! If they think I’ll eat on my own the bottles will stop!” – and she scurried away from the food.
I’m wise to your game, bratty little Pink!
“Who, ME?”
“Did you say ‘bottle’?”
“I’ll just wait right here for my bottle, thank you.”
Belly = full. Brain = in shutdown mode. Zzzzzs to commence in 4… 3… 2…
“We don’t think it’s fair that Pink still gets a bottle and the rest of us don’t. I’m heading up the protest.”
Yeah, I’d buy into your protest a little more if you didn’t outweigh every other kitten by at least four ounces, porky. I don’t think you’re starving.
Something has disturbed Miz Poo.
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Previously
2008: Jazz paws!
2007: “You want what? To snuggle? HA. Good luck with THAT!”
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.