Wednesday evening

My baby is restless. It's way past dinnertime, but it's so hot, no one really seems anxious to eat, except for perhaps the baby of the family. Maybe that's why he's fussing with a plastic strap that held boxes together . . . or maybe he's just being a kitten (a "big boy" kitten, that is). I sometimes think that it's been a somewhat difficult life for him thus far - I found him on the street at 1:00am, hungry, thirsty and lost, when he was about three months old. I took him home to a senior citizens' center with four cats going on 12-18 years old. At first, they were kind of amused by this little guy, but when they realized he wasn't going away, they became angry, especially Blackjack, who wanted to stay the baby of the family, I guess.Three times, he jumped up on the bed while I was sleeping and peed all over my head, my pillow, the sheets, the pillowtop thingie on top of the cement mattress to make it softer to sleep on. There's nothing like waking up to warm cat pee pouring all over your hair, neck and face. There's nothing like washing sheets, your face and hair, and pillows in the middle of the night. 

Blackjack

Thankfully, Blackjack has now accepted the fact that Denali (who is just about to pounce on my keyboard as I type this - get back, little crazy one, get back, I say!) is here to stay. It does help that I have allowed Denali to go outside and play since he was about nine months old. I don't usually let a kitten outside until it is at least one years old; that's about the age when a young feline develops some street smarts. But since I found Denali on the street when he was just a kid, I figure he probably already has street smarts. He knew enough to wait for me to back up my car and get out to scoop him up and rescue his cute little self. I put up fliers around the neighborhood, but no one claimed him. So now Denali is part of the family forever.

Denali