Those kittens sound like a herd of mini-elephants when they race around. One kitten was lying in the wrong place and got run over by the other three going at top speed. It's endlessly hysterical.

The fluffy black girl has been dubbed JETTA, after a character in my animation series, Jem and the Holograms. Jetta had typical 1980s Big Hair and it was black, hence the name. She played sax in the bad girl rock group, The Misfits.

Opal climbs like a monkey. She climbed all the way to the top of a set of 6 foot wicker shelves. Of course, then she had no way to get down again, so we had to rescue her.

I do believe Owl has put on a little bit of weight! He will have to endure the hated medicine a while longer.

Oops. It looks like Orpheus is actually an Orphine. Or would that be Orphette? At any rate, a new name is in order. It shows the dangers of making assumptions. Since the two torties were girls, we've been assuming both black kittens were boys. It's hard enough to get the sex of a young kitten, let alone one that is as fluffy as this one.

Now that we've soaked her butt clean and taken another close look, we've discovered our error. It appears that Pippin is the sole male of the litter.

Must now think about a new placeholder name for the fluffy black girl.

Alas, our kitten butt cleaning attempts weren't adequate. We finally had to do it the traumatic way and dunk the little boys' behinds in a sink of warm water. They were only mildly traumatized, but it worked far better than our other methods. And they recovered quickly enough.

As usual, the girls needed no cleaning up at all.

Black Tribble aka Tribble Jr. has morphed to yet another nickname and I've taken to calling him Orpheus. I'm sure his new owner will come up with something far better, but it will do for now.

Lolette from Cause 4 Cats came by today, met the kittens and the rest of the Horde, then we started work on her website. I'm making a fairly simple website up for her. Tribble took up residence in her lap where he received an expert massage. Lolette figures she has about 120 cats at her place now. She and her husband support this work entirely on their own, or from donations. We hit some technical snags, so the site isn't actually up yet. It will be plain vanilla as far as design goes, but at least she'll have something.

Puck came to the very edge of disaster today. I didn't have time to let him out in the morning, so I relented and let him outside late in the afternoon after Randy had finished some yard work and wanted me to come outside for a look. Puck caught sight of Salem and chased him, after which Puck was fully inflated and hepped up. We were afraid he'd run right out of the yard, so Randy went to pick him up.

Just as he did to me a week or so ago, Puck went nuts on Randy and sanks his claws deep into Randy's face just above the lip. I had to rush over and extricate Puck's claws as Randy stood very, very still to keep Puck from becoming more berserk. He not only got Randy's face in about three places, he gave Randy lots of punctures and scratches on the hands and arms. Randy was understandably upset with Puck, to put it mildly. I think Puck is lucky he still has a home.

One thing's for sure -- Puck has lost his outdoor privileges... permanently.

Poor little Tribble Jr. has severe diarrhea. He's active and happy and seems healthy in every other respect, but this is pretty bad. I called the vet's office this morning to see what I could do for him. They reminded me of something I've known about for years, but keep forgetting it -- pumpkin.

We went to two supermarkets with no luck. We could NOT find a can of plain pumpkin. We had to settle for the closest equivalent, so we bought some jars of squash baby food which we mixed with the canned kitten food. To our surprise, they loved it.

Another unpleasant problem, related to the first problem, is that while chicken feed works great as cat litter, it's not working so well as kitten litter. For whatever reason, the two boys end up with a disgusting mess on their rear ends made up of crap and chicken feed that has hardened into cement. We had to spend quite a long time laboring over Pippin's unfortunate rear end last night to get him clean. The two girls, however, keep themselves immaculate.

We decided to buy a different cat litter in hopes of avoiding the problem for the time being. There's a type of litter made of pellets of recycled newspaper. We're giving that a try. The kittens seem rather confused by it at the moment, so let's hope for the best.

They were racing around the room this afternoon when Pippin zoomed at 100 mph from north to south, while one of the torties was racing equally fast across the room from east to west, and they had a major collision at the intersection. Pippin was knocked for a loop and had to hide in a corner for a couple of minutes until he got his wits back.

It will be hard to see these kittens go. Even though we've only had them less than a week, I already have emotional attachments to all of them. Little Spitfire has mellowed out, no longer hisses, and has an absolutely terrific purr machine that she now turns on quite easily. I've changed her nickname to Sapphire. Opal is also quick to purr.

However, we can't keep them all. I have the contact info for the Human Officer for the local no-kill shelter who is organizing Kitten Prisoner Exchanges...ummm, I mean, is arranging adoptions, so I will get in touch with her this weekend.

Meanwhile, here are more cute kitten photos.

Also, ahem, if anyone reading this would seriously consider adopting, please let me know. I'll deliver to anyone within a 60 mile radius, meaning from Bakersfield to L.A. Pass the word around.

Meanwhile, I have pretty much given up on trying to catch mama cat.

Puck tried to eat a button off my shirt. Weird moggy.

Taking care of kittens is highly time-consuming. We were hoping we could leave the cage open sometimes and let them romp freely in the spare room, but we discovered that they won't bother to return to the cage when they need the litter box. Either too much effort, or their little furry brains forget about the litter box as soon as they leave the cage. We can't afford those kinds of accidents on the carpet, so we have to watch them every minute they're out and about.

I brought up an old carpeted scratching post that my moggies have been ignoring for years. The darker tortie with the bent tail, whom I've nicknamed Opal, was the first to discover it and she went crazy over it. Up the post, perch on top, down the post either head-first, sideways or ass over ears, then zoom back up, perch, down. Up, down, up, down. The others haven't quite gotten into as much as she has yet.

Nefreet is quite unhappy about the whole thing. She stays away, or on rare occasion takes a glimpse, hisses, and goes back to sulking downstairs.

I caught a lovely young tabby the other night, but there's been no sign of mama cat whatsoever. I doubt I'll try for much longer. Our neighbor is planning to thoroughly block off access to the underneath of his cabin to keep any cat from getting under there again. Sounds like a good idea to me.

The kittens are doing great. I had to go out and buy ten thousand cands of kitten food yesterday because they're going through it so fast. I bought some dry kitten food, too, but so far they have no interest in it.

We have a portion of the room blocked off so we can let them out of the cage a number of times during the day to have their wild romps. I was able to pet Spitfire today without being hissed at, though she is definitely the kitten who is least interested in humans. Pippin loves his humans, and the other little tortie girl gave me her first purr today. I've decided the other black kitten will grow up to be much like Tribble, a big fluffy love-muffin. He's so gentle, almost placid, but wildly playful at the same time. He's going to have a gorgeous big ruff on his chest where is one small patch of white is.

Meanwhile, I feel that I've lost ground with Ariel. I haven't been giving her the special attention I need to because of the kitten distraction. I need to play with her a lot more often. She's more untouchable then ever.

The blood work-up on Tribble came back excellent. Everything is just right, including his thyroid levels. According to these results, he's in great shape.

Knobby, however, is throwing up a lot and nearly every day. He's as chunky as ever and doesn't seem to have anything obviously wrong with him...except all the throwing up.

There's nothing like food to tame a wild kitten. We're using two small bowls so that they don't have to fight over it so much, and we gave them food before we went to bed. But this morning there were four eager little furballs lined up at the door of the cage demanding food. In the face of hunger, reticence disappears. By Bast, they can move through some food!

We had a couple of long play sessions with them today and they've really started to adjust to us. They're coming out of the cage and bouncing around all over the place. We laugh ourselves silly watching them race around, bounce off objects, do the Sideways Arching Killer Dance, leap on one another, run-run-run, bound over the five spokes on the base of an office chair, then demand more food, run around some more and have nap attacks.

They're much better about letting us touch them and pick them up. Spitfire hasn't quite run out of spitty hisses yet, but is deploying them less often.

During the warm part of the afternoon when the kittens were out and about, we did some rear end clean-up. Pippin and his brother were the worst, having caked crap on their butts and feet. Randy had to simply clip some of it from the underside of their tails.

When I checked the trap last night, we'd caught yet another cat, but not mama. I'm losing hope of catching her. The one I found last night was young, maybe 10 months old, and quite pretty, a fluffy white and pale orange tabby. It seemed like a rather nice cat, too, though it certainly took off fast when I opened the cage.

This morning, the cage had been triggered, but there was no cat inside. If mama is coming around, she's being terribly cunning.

No luck catching mama cat so far. We'll keep trying for a while, but I'm afraid she may have given up coming back once she couldn't find the kittens there. Our neighbor arrived this afternoon to do more work on his house and he was glad to hear we'd nabbed the kits, as he doesn't want stray cats around his place, especially under the cabin.

I handled the other three kittens today to get them accustomed to humans. I've nicknamed one of the torties Spitfire, because that's what she is -- a little spitfire full of fire and brimstone. When I first found her in the trap, she hissed and spat and growled. She hasn't mellowed a bit since then.

The other tortie is the boldest of the three, not counting Pippin. She has a crook at the end of her tail. The other black kitten is the most timid and passive. I think it will be a sweet cat, with softer, fluffier fur than Pippin's. I haven't quite determined its sex yet. It's hard to sex a black kitten at this age. Even the vet was having trouble when I took in Pippin.

We rearranged the cage set-up last night. I put in a regular catbox. Randy was worried the sides were too high for them, but they had no trouble. I took out the enclosed carrier because they were hiding too much instead of adjusting to the outside world. I put in the bottom half of a smaller carrier padded with towels. This gives them high sides to huddle against, but they're still open to the world.

Pippin remains the most adventurous. He comes bounding out of the cage (falls on his chin half the time) and is ready to play with the string, the ball, the peacock feather, or the giant's fingers.

Pippin has a webpage now. More cute kitten pics, including a couple of pics of his siblings.

http://www.christymarx.com/moggy/pippin.htm

Randy and I can declare ourselves to be Master Kitten Rustlers.

But first, to back up to yesterday morning when Puck mauled me. I had settled into a routine with him where I let him outside when I go out to dump the water from their water dish. Then I spend about ten minutes or so weeding in the yard so that Puck can have some outdoor time.

Prior to this, he was an excellent boy. He stayed nearby in the yard, would come over to check in with me and all was well. He was being quite good, as usual, until he decided to jump onto one particular stretch of the fence. The house on the other side of that fence has a dog that is a cat-killer. I hurried over to pluck him off the fence. He ran down the fence and I had to go after him. When I picked him up, he went totally medieval on me. It was a Jekyll and Hyde moment and he had turned into Mr. Hyde. He attacked me and left a large, painful gouge in my collarbone. When I set him down, he turned on me like a feral cat, ready to attack again. I was glad I'd been wearing my garden gloves.

I gently used my feet to herd him toward the front door area of the porch. I gave him a couple of minutes to calm down, treated him normally, spoke in a soothing voice, then picked him up again and took him inside. I was deeply pissed off with him. In the three years I've had Puck, he's NEVER done anything like this. I would have trusted him absolutely not to hurt me...until yesterday.

The instant I put him inside, he jumped on Kate and got her into a death-hold and I had to break that up. I guess he simply didn't want to go inside, which I can understand since he was an outdoor boy before we moved here. Last night, he crawled in my lap and purred away like nothing had happened. But today, I did not let him have his outdoor time. I'm still miffed with his behavior.

On to the kitten news, lots of it. Randy has been bonding with the black kitten. This is true love on both sides. We set up the large cage in our upstairs spare room, with the carrier inside as a cave and the lid to large plastic container serving as a cat box. We kept giving him food and he polished it off each time. Let me tell you, this kitten can EAT. He's also good about cleaning himself.

I put him in the cat box, took his paw in my hand and showed him how to scratch at the cat litter. He thought about it and promptly took his first little kitten poop, followed later by a pee. He's got the cat box down just like that. And I had a fecal sample to take to the vet, which was handy.

He loves to play "Attack the Spider" with Randy's fingers, and he loves to play with the plastic golf ball. He's at that age where he hasn't quite got the whole four-legs-and-balance thing worked out, but he's getting there. He's highly adventurous and crawls all over Randy on the floor, though he's understandably fearful of us when we stand as giants. He's also not as enchanted with me. After all, I'm the hand that nabbed him, then took him to the vet. But Randy said that at one point he had the kitten in his lap upside down and it purred for him!

I took Tribble to the vet in the afternoon for a follow-up appointment to have his thyroid levels checked. Something's still not right, but it looks like it'll be Tues. before I get the results for that and the blood tests. Tribble hasn't lost weight, but he hasn't gained any either, and he could use another pound or so on him.
On the drive there (takes about 45 minutes), I got the double chorus from Tribble and the kitten. The kitten didn't spend the trip cowering in the back of the carrier. No, he got right up to the grill and expressed his displeasure. Tribble took tenor and the kitten sang soprano. It's hard to believe so much noise could come from such a tiny mouth.

The vet agreed with me that the kitten is about 6-7 weeks in age. The kitten is healthy and in great shape. Good lungs, good heart, eyes clear, ears clean, no worms or parasites. In a couple of weeks, he'll go back for his shots and some tests, but for now, everything looks excellent.

I brought back some kitten formula and have been mixing the canned kitten food into a gruel with the formula. That's what we used to bait the trap early in the evening. When we checked around 11 pm, we had caught one of our boy's sisters, a pretty tortie girl.

We reset the trap and when I checked it first thing this morning, we had the third kitten, another tortie girl. That's when I had the biggest shock of this whole event -- there was a fourth kitten! It was sticking its head out of the crawlspace hole, distressed about losing the last of its siblings.

Neither one of us suspected there were four of them. This was another black kitten. So I took the second tortie home, made up another batch of food and went back to reset the trap because I could tell it wouldn't take long to catch this last one.

I had also caught a cat in the second trap that's under the porch for mama cat. This was young adult black cat and he was quite wild. He'd bashed his head up a little from fighting the trap, so I simply let him go right there. He was off in a flash.

When I approached the house, the fourth kitten was already sitting outside the hole on the platform Randy built for the trap and he was mewing away. He wouldn't let me get close, of course. I set up the trap and returned home for breakfast. Randy made us a hearty breakfast because Kitten Rustling is hungry work.

By the time we'd finished, I checked the trap and sure enough, we had our fourth kitten. There's a totally adorable pile of kittens in the cage. It's no wonder we thought there were only three, since we have two sets of twins. Actually, the other black kitten has slightly different fur and doesn't have the small splotches of white on the chest and belly that the first one has, but when looking into a dark crawlspace, I can see how we would think we were seeing the same kitten.

We're still trying and hoping to catch mama cat. I would ideally like to have mama to go with her other three kittens to the Cause4Cats haven. Fortunately, the kittens are doing just fine with the canned food and formula, so they won't suffer terribly much if I can't catch mama. Though frankly, we don't want to go through this again if she's out there churning out one litter after another. She's been a good mama cat, I have to say, as her kittens are healthy, clean and smart.

Randy and I began discussing what to name the black kitten that we're keeping. He's an adventure boy, so we wanted an adventurer's name. He's cheeky and smart and he loves to eat.

And so he has been dubbed...Pippin.

Yeah, we're LOTR geeks (especially me). So sue me. ;)

Here's Pippin on his first night with us.

Bast has struck again. We are so doomed...

Randy built a support structure outside the hole to the crawlspace where mama cat and the kittens have been lurking. That's where one trap went, while the other trap is being reserved to catch mama after catching the kittens. I put kitten food inside and set the trap on Wed. night.

Yesterday morning, I discovered that I had captured a gorgeous young Siamese cat. Beautiful cat! But not what we were going for. There are several Siamese that live at The House That Is The Source Of All Cats, so I drove him over there and let him go.

I decided to put a couple servings of the kitten food right inside the hole to get the kittens used to it. I could clearly see mama cat's face looking back at me one time from quite close by. The food disappeared quickly.

Early this afternoon, I went over to put out more food and check out the situation. As I looked into the hole, I could see the black kitten right there staring back quizzically at me. So I reached in and grabbed him!

I got a stuck with sharp needles and bled a little bit, but the first kitten was in my hands! I hurried home to show Randy my catch. We set up the kitten inside a carrier with kitten food and water.

When I went back, I could see the other kitten, but it was too cagey to let me get my hands on it, so I set up the trap and hoped. No luck. We're rather worried, in fact, because since then we haven't been able to locate any sign at all of mama and the other kitten. I'm very much afraid I could have scared them to another location.

Meanwhile, the black kitten was mewing piteously and Randy's heart had instantly melted into a pile of goo. When I got back, he was feeding the kitten by letting it lick (and bite) the kitten food off the end of his fingers. It ate ravenously, though it doesn't have the hang of drinking water yet.

I think you can see where this is going. We intended to take the kitten to Lolette's where it could join all the other piles of kittens that she has. So much for our intentions. This kitten may only be 5 or 6 weeks old, but he has tons of personality and is already playing with a string and going to sleep in Randy's lap.

Which is why the kitten is still here and, Bast help me, may be staying. I already had an appointment at the vet's tomorrow for Tribble, and I'm sure they won't mind taking a look at the kitten for me, too. He looks perfectly healthy, but we don't want to take chances.

Nefreet's nose is totally out of joint at having the kitten in the house. As I write this, Randy is setting up the large cage we bought originally bought for Ariel. It's going into one of our upstairs rooms where hopefully we won't hear the little guy crying all night and to keep him away from Nefreet.

Doomed, doomed, doomed...

Owl's been throwing up a lot the past couple of days, and it appears to be hairball problems. He's pulled out a lot of the fur on his side and back, and apparently he's eating every bit of it. Must dig out the tube of hairball remedy.

I was rather worried about mama cat and kittens yesterday because I could find so sign of them at all. I refilled the food again this morning, and did catch a glimpse of the two kittens. I've already gone to Cause4Cats and borrowed a couple of traps from Lolette. I have cans of kitten food at the ready. I think I'll begin the first attempts at trapping mama and kits this week.

I suddenly discovered this morning that I barely had enough of Owl's medicine for one dropper-full, which required an unscheduled trip to the vet's in B'fld. While I was in town, I went to Petsmart and bought several small cans of kitten food for future enticement and trapping purposes.

I also went into a large thrift shop and found exactly what I've been wanting, a huge stack of small, but solid porcelain bowls to use as cat food dishes. I got eight very nice bowls for under $4.00. I now have enough bowls so that I can divide a can of cat food into 11 portions, one for each cat in the office. We'll see how it works out.

When I went across the street to feed mama cat, I peered into the hole into the crawlspace and found wide, glowing eyes peering back at me. The entire family was only a couple feet away from me. I could clearly see mama, looking rather worried, and at least two of the kittens, who look quite healty. I may have seen a third kitten, but I'm not sure. I tried to coax the kittens within grabbing range, but they were too cautious for that. In another week or so, I'll get serious about trying to catch them.

I learned today that the teeny-tiny kitten we helped rescue is alive and feisty and doing well. And I believe it's been identified as a he. The neighbor directly across from me, the primary rescuer, is still determined to adopt it, which will give her a total of 7 male cats, if my count is correct.

In today's daily outing, Puck had great fun exploring the olive tree in the front yard while I did yet more weeding. He was awfully good about staying close to me, until he finally jumped onto the fence that borders the road. That earned him a "no" and a return to the office. I'm trying to get through to him that jumping on the fence = return to jail.

The last couple of times I've gone to refill mama cat's food bowl, it's been totally empty. I hope she's getting most of it, and not some other stray moggy. At any rate, there's been nothing left but a couple of crumbles. I managed to get a pretty good look under the crawlspace today. I could see her looking back at me, with little bundles of fur snuggled up against her. It's hard to make out much detail at that distance with only a flashlight, but things seem to be all right.

I was especially worried about them when I woke up this morning, having heard it raining most of the night, to discover that some of that rain had actually turned to snow! Only a small amount, relegated to cold surfaces such as cars or unheated roofs, but still...May 10th and we had snow.

The past couple of days when I went to check on mama cat, I took my big flashlight along to look back into the depths of the crawlspace. Unless my eyes are playing tricks on me, it looks like she's in there with them because of the heap of dark fur looks too big to be mere kittens. I saw one of the kittens' little heads move around and look at me, so I can only hope this means they're all doing well.

Here at moggy central, things are much the same. Owl hasn't thrown up again and he doesn't seem to be pulling his fur out, even though I've stopped giving him the anti-histamines. It might be my imagination, since not very much time has passed since I started him on the medicine, but it does seem to me that he might have added a tiny bit of flesh over his backbone. I hope it's not wishful thinking on my part.

Querida, now on a steroid treatment, is eating a lot. The steroids must be pumping up her appetite.

Puck is as happy as he can be about his daily outings. He's such a good boy about staying close to me. It takes a lot to faze him. This morning he was right next to the fence along the road when a guy roared past on a dirt bike. Puck didn't budge an inch, though he did have a WTF look on his face. I've been using my minutes outside with him to do some weeding in the front yard.

He continues to be the Lord of Mischief in the office. He jumped to the top of my CD cabinet, knocked off a cat sculpture, jumped from there to the top of a couple of bookcases on top of which I've piled up dozens of empty boxes for future packing or shipping. He proceeded to plow across this row of boxes to the other end where he jumped into a large amazon.com box, which then toppled off the end of a bookshelf and, luckily, down only a couple of feet to land on top of a wardrobe box. He didn't seem terribly perturbed about that either.

Unhappily, Owl threw up this morning before I gave him the medicine. I left a message for the vet but he called while I was gone all day. He wants me to take Owl off the medicine, but he seems to think I have Owl eating only the special diet food, which I simply can't do. I'll have to try and connect with the vet tomorrow to discuss it.

It's raining again and is supposed to get down to about 37 tonight. I worry about mama cat and her babies. I hope they can stay warm enough under that house. I refilled her food this morning. She's eating a good amount of the food, though not quite as much as I would have expected a mama cat to eat.

Owl's been spending a lot of time in my lap, being a big old snugglebunny. He talks and talks when Randy comes in to visit, demanding his share of Randy's attention. Quite a change from the shy cat of a few years ago.

I can't tell yet whether the medicine is having any effect. The vet said it would take about a month to see a change. Unfortunately, Owl threw up again right after I gave him the medicine last night.

Ariel had a grand time playing with her favorite toy of the day. I bought a package of lightweight, brightly colored plastic cubes. They're actually baby toys that are supposed to be alphabet blocks, but these light plastic ones are perfect for a cat to bat around. At the moment it's lost, along with any number of practice golf balls, the hollow plastic kind filled with holes. Those are also fantastic cat toys. Dozens of them will show up next time we get around to moving house.

Randy and I did our usual quick walk after lunch, then I went across the street to refresh mama cat's food. Just as I approached the house, I saw her duck inside and finally got a good look at her. I recognized her immediately. She showed up in our yard several times when she was quite young. She's a pretty cat, a dark tortie, meaning she's mostly black with the merest hints of orange here and there on her sides. I refilled the food just as it started to rain and it's been pouring ever since. I'm glad she has food and water in a sheltered spot so she can stay dry.

I gave up on the unfortunate wooden coatrack after Puck's latest assault on it. It's beyond repair. I swapped it out for a metal coatstand that should be less convenient for the Puckster to knock over. We shall see.

I went over to check on mama cat's food and water situation yesterday and today. The ants were getting into the food, so I did away with the large bowl I'd used and replaced it with a small bowl set inside a tray of water to keep the ants out. The food is disappearing at a good pace. I just hope it's actually going to mama cat and not some other scavenger.

Owl's doing better taking the medicine. Still a bit of foaming going on, but he's getting over it pretty quickly. However, he knows what it means now when I shake the bottle and he tends to take off for higher ground. But there is no escape! Bwwaaa haaa haaa!

We also took part in another kitten rescue yesterday. Our tremendously nice neighbors across the street, Gordon and Tina, have an ancient cabin on the property they purchased. They plan to mostly tear it down and rebuild it. Gordon came over to get us because he discovered a batch of very young kittens, three of them, in a completely inaccessible crawlspace beneath the house.

I coaxed a couple of them fairly close, but not close enough to grab. They're about 3-4 weeks old, cute little things. Gordon was afraid his Jack Russell Terrier might have killed the mother cat, but we soon saw her hanging around the edge of his yard, waiting for the blasted humans to get lost.

Gordon thinks mama-cat has been subsisting on dog food, so I took over a bowl of good cat food and a bowl of water which we placed under the front porch deck near the access point. In a few weeks, if she doesn't move the kittens somwhere else, I'll set about trying to trap her and them.

Speaking of kitten rescue, the tiny kitten I took to Cause 4 Cats is doing all right. He (or she) had a bad night yesterday, I was told, but is hanging in and quite feisty. Lolette thinks it's older than a newborn, because he's already opened his eyes. He may simply be small for his age. So he may make it yet.

The first dose of the new medicine for Owl did not go well at all. This could be entirely my fault, as I had given him the anti-histamine a couple of minutes before. When I gave him the liquid med, he foamed at the mouth and threw up. Not a good start.

This morning, I did NOT give the anti-histamine. Owl still foamed a bit, though not as badly, and so far hasn't thrown up.

I let Puck have a few minutes outside this morning with the usual grass-eating and dust-rolling. He complained when I had to bring him inside, poor boy. Then, as usual, he threw up the grass.

Ariel has become more skittish than ever about letting me get close to her, probably because I managed...no, I dared to pet her ever so briefly. "No, no! It is forbidden!"

I've been waiting for Querida's eye infection to clear up before I can start her on the steroids. I thought we might have reached that point, but this morning her eye looked weepy again. If it doesn't clear up in another week, I'll have to consult with the vet about it.

And a big Happy Birthday to Tribble who turns 16 on this May Day! He's the only cat I have whose birthday I know with certainty. However this is Nefreet's honorary approximate birthday, and she is now 13.

A few photos for the day: Owl, Ariel.

Or go to Archive Index Page