Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
I trimmed the claws of all three cats today, and even though Sam wasn’t too happy about it at the time, if you’ll look at Emma’s paw I think he was appreciative of it later. No matter how it looks, this was all in good fun and part of their normal horseplay. Sam is still smaller than Emma but at least it’s not as lopsided as it used to be — not that his small size ever stopped Sam from rough-housing as a kitten.
Another of Emma’s traits that showed early is that she’s pretty good about playing on her own (at least until she shoves her toys behind a door). I also like how this picture shows the size disparity between the two cats at the time.
… and there are a lot of things I don’t know, but how exactly are we supposed to play with our mice if you keep shoving them under the door?
This is one of Emma’s traits that showed itself right from the beginning.
… you’ll put the camera down and let me sleep!
This time, I wanted to emphasize how adorable he was so I zoomed in for the full-on kitten cuteness.
A picture of Sam zonked out on our couch, taken back in early January when he was just a little kitten and had only been with us a couple of weeks. I wanted to emphasize how little he was so I zoomed out and took a wide angle shot.
When I saw Sam sleeping in the heated bed with his ears sticking up over the top, it reminded me of a picture of Templeton in a similar pose and I couldn’t resist paying tribute.
Perhaps the greatest tragedy of the catwalk is that it does not discriminate against the young or the old. This kitten, estimated at only 10 months old, has already given in and given up. I queried his owner (who refused to give his name) if he wasn’t ashamed to see his young charge in such desperate straits. He shrugged and said only in reply, “At least he’s not chewing on anyone’s feet.”
We have a couple of these heated cat beds, this one sits beside my desk. It was one of Templeton’s favorite spots when he was still with us and has now been claimed by little Sam. Scout sleeps here sometimes as well, but Emma prefers sleeping in the open on the floor or on the desk itself.
In case you think little Sam is all sweetness and light, this is what attacked my feet the other morning at 5am. Fortunately he soon kicked his foot fascination and since then he’s toed the line and been well-heeled, so I haven’t had to give him the boot and shoo him out of bed. If it wasn’t so late I could probably have thrown in a bad sock or slipper pun as well, but at least I worked in a homophone, so I’ll sleep well tonight (provided I don’t get Sammied again).
Boolie 