We arrived home from our trip to Yellowstone on Sunday evening. Monday morning, The Boy was off to work. I stayed at home for some quality time with Kitten Thunder.
If you’ve been reading for a while, you know that Oliver is a mama’s boy. Perhaps – and you wouldn’t be alone in this – you’d think that he’d spend the morning with me on the couch. You’d be wrong. I’d assumed that as well. I was wrong.
Instead, my brown kitten spent the morning with me. We rubbed the belly. We snuggled. We actually, really, physically snuggled. No aura snuggling on Monday. He laid in my arms. He climbed under the blanket. He stretched over my leg. And, oh, how Obi put the purr on.
Oliver was nowhere to be found.
When I had to get up to do some errands, Obi followed me around as I got ready. He looked very concerned when I left. I rushed home as soon as I could and we snuggled some more.
Oliver was nowhere to be found.
When I went downstairs to work out, Obi went with me. When I put some funky red stripes in my hair, Obi helped. When I packed my bag for my trip to Sheridan, Obi furrowed his brow. I could tell that he recognized that my small bag was bad news.
In the evening, Oliver was found. He snuggled with me all night.
This morning, Kitten Thunder followed me to the basement where I get ready. Obi looked forlorn on his supervision chair. Oliver was sitting under his throne. When I walked around the corner with my bag – the first time he’d seen it – his eyes got wide. If he was a cartoon, his jaw would have dropped and bounced on the floor.
I just texted The Boy. No answer. I’m hoping he is pinned down by grey and brown fuzzies, getting the snuggling they all deserve.
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Since I am five hours away from Kitten Thunder, I don’t have pictures of them to post today. So instead, I will show you a steamy photo of The Boy. Sorry, friends on the Book of Face, I know you’ve seen this already.
Kitten Thunder: Life lessons and cat tales 
I love how they know when they see the luggage, it’s bad news!
It makes it hard to sneak out of the house. Last week, Obi was watching me pack for Yellowstone with a look like “the box…what does that box mean? It means something…I feel like it is bad…hmmm.”
He knows now!
Mine have never cottoned on to the whole suitcase thing, but perhaps that’s because we’re so poor we rarely leave the house LOL
I used to pack in a plastic grocery bag when I had Poco because she was big big BIG into punishing me for leaving – before I left and when I came back.
I’ve traveled a lot more than I used to this year. A combo of job and having someone to travel with.