A couple weeks ago, the husband came home and announced that the kittens our Girl Scout troop leader had been raising were almost ready to leave their mother.
I was more fascinated by his knowing this information than anything else, seeing as how a little over a year ago when the other adult may have been cruising wistfully around the cages at pet adoption events cooing things like, “But look at how sweet he is!” or “C’mon, she’s fully housetrained!” at random intervals, the other adult living in this house made firm statements about the many, many benefits of being pet-free and how awesome it would be, not having the Responsibilities of pet-ownership and possibly words such as “absolutely not, we do not need the complication etc. etc. etc.” were uttered.
Hint: These statements were NOT uttered by ME.
Uh-huh. You see why I was fascinated by this sudden fascination from himself in re: kittens and when they would be leaving their mother?
This swiftly led to pictures of diabetic-shock inducing Kitten Cuteness being emailed to me along with countdowns to when they would be weaned and how desperate the situation was because good homes, finding them is not easy. (You don’t say. Funny, because the pet adoption folks are always complaining about having to beat people away from their doors and such, too. Ahem.)
And then came the declaration that not saying no was the same as saying yes, at which point the only information I offered up was the fact that since we are disciples of the Indoor Only manner of cat ownership, if we were going to jump back into the pet-ownership pond, Kitty would be happier if there were another Kitty around to play with, groom, cuddle up to, torment, steal food from and otherwise hang out with.
Which is why there are now not one but two kittens frolicking around in his office figuring out their path to world domination.
Well. They were frolicking. Now they’re both doing some variation of this.
fihveh moh minnits…zzzzzzz…
They are, of course, ridiculously cute. And they are already the bosses of the household; even Captain Adventure – usually fairly impervious to the wiles of baby animals – had to admit that they are “super epic” cute.
I’m sure these two innocent little purr-balls are going to tearing up everything they can reach – as well as things you’d swear there was no possible way they could reach – in no time.
Welcome to the Den of Chaos, little ones. Your six new servants will take a bit of work to train back to worthwhile form, but I’m sure you will muddle through, somehow…