There are all sorts of checks in place to keep women in their sixties from adopting babies, but nary a warning about adopting kittens. So, here are Obie and Ernie, looking all innocent and quiet:
Cute, right? Innocent. Sweet. But eventually they will wake up. Now don’t get me wrong. They are adorable and my heart melts when they curl up next to me to purr and give little kitty kisses. And they are mighty hunters, so I will never see another mouse. Not so sure I appreciated the great waterbug hunt at 3:30 AM. but I’m certainly delighted at the demise of said bug. Job well done, guys!
When Obie curled up on my shoulder and started to purr at the adoption event, I knew I was a goner. Ernie came along so Obie wouldn’t be lonely when I travel. They aren’t litter mates, but they are somehow brothers.
So what’s wrong with this picture? Well, sleeping kittens wake up. Early and often. Ernie is a leaper, and a climber, so I’m spending lots of time convincing him that the stove top is not a good place to hang out. Obie likes to pounce, so we’re working on the notion that feet under a blanket are not the enemy. Both of them tear through my apartment at high speed at unlikely moments that generally coincide with my need to concentrate or sleep. Ernie is fond of small spaces, so I’ve lost the trash basket in the living room:
I just hope that I have the energy to survive their first year! I also wish that I’d heard my sister-in-law’s advice before adopting – she said never adopt a cat under a year old. Well, maybe not. They really are cute. And growing every day.
I just hope I make it through kittenhood!