The kittens are doing well. The first thing I did when I got home was let Callie and Bear out of the cage (I put him in there to keep her company, and gave Fred explicit instructions on keeping an eye on Bear to make sure he’s not being molested). The second thing I did was give Sugarbutt a bath from the waist down to wash off the poo.
The problem with Sugarbutt, as I told my sister a little while ago, is that he probably would like to keep himself clean, but he honestly cannot reach around his great big gut to clean himself. He tries, but he just can’t do it. Hopefully once the deworming medication kicks in it’ll help with the size of his gut, and I won’t have to bathe him quite so often.
Or so I’d like to believe.
That ain’t a look o’ love.
“Okay, let me think. You go left at the food bowl, bear right after the litter box… Wait, no. I think you go LEFT after the litter box.. No, that’s not right either. Did you check Google Maps?”
Wet kitten, or drowned rat? You decide.
Smitty makes the leap.
“Give me that toy!”
“GIVE me that toy!”
“GIVE ME THAT TOY, WOMAN!”
“Dude, your butt is wet. Why is your butt wet? What did that horrid woman DO to you?”
I love this come-hither look from Smitty.