The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

After setting up the tree this year, I asked my friends on Facebook to place their bets.

The bets were all about how long Squeak would allow the tree to stand. How long the ornaments would stay on. Whether he would climb it. But the only thing Squeak has done is turn the lights on (and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and…).

People forgot all about Kitten Thunder. And that this tree is for Obi.

Oliver was content to watch. And duck the halls, courtesy of a friendly toddler.

Eventually, even the tree was tired and we all took a nap.

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Mirror Mirror

Mirror mirror in baby’s hands,

Upon the wall throws lighted bands.

The cat will chase them to and fro,

Though you’ve no idea where they will go.

Super Vising

Hello peoples of the internets! Obi here.

Sometimes I feel like The Boy sold me a bill of goods with Squeak. He still doesn’t Thunder with me like they said he would.

He doesn’t even know how to play with the cool toys The Girl bought for us.

But he looks to me for advice. And he is getting better.

And he’s good for snuggling… He doesn’t think he needs to hug or kiss me like The Girl does.

And at  I don’t have to do his laundry because Oliver volunteered. And The Boy finished it when my brother was done.

Test Drive

The Boy and I continue to do interesting things to entertain Kitten Thunder.

Yesterday, I was sewing. With equal parts help and supervision, of course.

Then The Boy showed up in the living room and started messing with Obi’s tall box. This box has been in the living room for a couple weeks. Obi didn’t know it opened!

For a minute, Obi wasn’t sure he liked what was happening.

He thought maybe we should go back to sewing.

But his sense of duty won out and he returned to Boy supervision.

We were quickly done with putting the pieces of the box together. It was followed by a lot of “where is the button that does this” and “how does that go in” from both people.

Obi, however, figured it out right away.

And today, Oliver discovered it’s a double decker.

Just don’t try to take either of them for a stroll.

Fabric Inspection

After dinner, there were no kittens holding me down. This led to and unexpected burst of productivity.

The Boy and I went into the baby’s room so that, as pregnant women are supposed to do, I could have him move furniture from one perfectly good location to a new location across the room.

And of course Kitten Thunder showed up to help.

There are no pictures of the ridiculous amount of under footedness that was happening because I was shouting orders for kittens to get out of the way.

After the furniture was in the right place, for now, the room looked startlingly like a person could live there in two months.

Kitten Thunder found letters on their bed to inspect.

And fabric.

They approve.

Test Drive

We might not know anything about tiny baby humans, but in this house we are well versed in large cats.

And they owe us.

So when my baby sling came in the mail, The Boy and I decided Oliver would help us try it out.

This is how he likes me to hold him, at arm’s length, so he actually really enjoyed it. Especially since I’d normally put him down when I needed to scratch my nose but I didn’t have to.

I may have gotten a size too small to hold a baby, but for a kitten… It’s purrfect.

On the Hook

What happens when The Girl spends time in the laundry room, hanging hooks on which to dry cloth diapers?

She gets help, of course.

Something Fishy

Those of you who have been with us a while, know that Oliver has allergies. This fall we discovered his liver is failing (hopefully very slowly) so we’re trying not to give him Prednisone anymore.

Benadryl, the alternative, is just icky. The betrayal, the hurt, wasn’t a long term option.

Dr. Tiffany from Cottonwood had one last suggestion: fish oil. It’s an anti inflammatory. And worth a shot.

The day it arrived, I pumped out a bit for both cats. And… It was delicious! They loved it! Hoorah!

But, because this made me happy, it couldn’t last. Oliver was not in love with breakfast fish oil.

Neither of them really wanted it that night until I tossed some treats in it.

The next morning, Oliver ate around the fish oil and left all the food that was touching it. He went and talked Obi into saving his HIS breakfast, from under the office door.

That night no one would eat the fish oil, even with treats.

Seriously.

So now what? Well, in the morning, Oliver will eventually lick the plate clean. Once all other food options are exhausted. So no worries there. Plus, we’ve decided to stop separating the cats for breakfast – Obi is more worried about missing something while he’s locked away than eating.

In the evening, we have baby food! I received several tips for medicating a cat on this blog and decided to combine two – I got some chicken baby food to surround the benadryl and froze it into pellets.

I mixed the rest with fish oil and used that to get the medicine down.

Did the pills work, you ask? I don’t know. Because the fish oil IS working. Like a miracle. All the sores on his sweet grey face after healed up.

No betrayal. No hurt.

Just a Boy shaking his head and muttering something about spoiled cats as I sit on the floor and spoon feed my cats.

Seriously.

Somebody’s Coming

A letter from Oliver:

Hello, peoples of the bloggy world. I am writing this, or having My Girl transcribe it, because it is very important that we stay on the couch.

Earlier today, The Boy was doing things in his office. Since My Girl was sleeping in the couch, Obi and I were free to help him.

This condo for kittehs used to have books all over it and it wasn’t very useful. We like it better this way.

Obi also checked out some drawers and a cabinet The Boy was emptying. The Boy telling my brother he wasn’t actually being super helpful (which is a ridiculous assertion) woke up My Girl.

And that’s when the troubling part of the day started.

My Girl, after I showed her the newly emptied kitteh condo, went into her office and started moving things around. Garbage bags were filled. Recycling bins were taken out, filled, and taken out again.

It was a flurry of activity that means one thing: somebody is coming.

But who!?! The Boy’s office doesn’t need to be cleaned for company. Certainly not the kitteh condo.

Obi looked at me, nervous. I looked back at him.

And I panicked.

I went to My Girl and demanded answers. I got none. I went to The Boy and demanded answers. He told me to get out from underfoot.

I was so upset by what was going on, I somehow ended up in the basement and couldn’t find my people. I had to yell for help.

My Girl called and called and eventually I found her waiting for me at the top of the stairs. She suggested that we go sit for a minute on the couch and calm down.

So here we are, on the couch. If I try, maybe I can keep her here for forever.

Getting Your Kicks…

When the baby is kicking but it’s time for a snuggle and a nap…