Mama’s Boys


At last, I have finished with traveling for a while. Kitten Thunder is relieved. They learned their lesson on Tuesday, though, when I left for my second trip. Neither is taking my presence for granted.

Obi has demanded numerous belly rubs. And fresh water. And an overflowing bowl of crunchies. And some more belly rubs. And to be picked up. And could I rub his belly?

Oliver spent all last night in my arms with his head on my pillow. He ate breakfast this morning in record time then found me on the couch for another snuggle. And now I have installed WordPress on my phone so I can blog while he is taking a bath on my lap.

The Boy, lest you were concerned, was also missed. Obi is also demanding rubs of the belly from him. And Oliver? Well, Oli seems to have blamed The Boy for my second absence. But now that I’m back, Oli will forgive.

I’d like to give a shout out to Lori, kitten sitter extraordinare, for taking care of my fuzzies. She fed them, distributed belly rubs, and stretched out on the couch for post-meal snuggles. Kitten Thunder was horribly neglected while we were gone, but they managed to survive without permanent damage because of her.

It’s Thunder Thursday! Since I am trapped on a couch by my mama’s boys, please share the names of your fuzzies – and maybe a cute story – in the comment area.


5 responses to “Mama’s Boys

  1. My troublesome Trio (Kitalpha, Kara and Roarke) are playing some sort of ‘my mouse is bigger than your mouse’ game. Yesterday I discovered three dead mice scattered around the garden, by lunchtime there were six mice which had been placed at strategic positions around the outside of our house. I think the cats are trying voodoo.

  2. The kittens are fun to play with. Their paws are softer.

  3. I love that picture of Oli.

    My cats are Holly (14 years old) and Thunder (7 years old). Thunder can be a little bossy — my cats are indoor-only, so his version of the infinite “let me in / let me out / let me in” cycle is “pick me up / put me down / pick me up”. Holly is a lap potato who will purr at anything — if they’re both sitting on the couch with me, and I start to pet Thunder, Holly will purr.

    I once had a dream that a cat was licking my fingers, and when I woke up, Holly was licking my fingers. I must be psychic.

    There are some pictures at (that post is mostly about Thunder, just because he’s easier to photograph).

    • Ah yes, the pick me up/put me down cycle. We are familiar.

      That was the first post of yours that I ever read! Can’t believe I’ve been following you for…more months than I can figure, having not had any coffee today. Is that bad? Where’s The Boy when I need simple math done?

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