After work, I let the kittens out to roam the living room.
Little Sister is turning out to be the dominant, sometimes feisty one,
while Little Brother is a little runty and less assertive, often
following his sister's lead. She will ight Miss Emily at bath time,
while he simply submits.
They have discovered toys.
We have a "weighted ball with a string on a stick" kind of toy, that
none of the cats have ever really played with, although it used to
have feathers. Little Sister has taken to batting it, chewing on the
string and trying to drag it, then wondering where the string went to
when it pulls away.
Little Brother has discovered the plastic fly-swatters on the bottom
shelf of the coffee table, pushes them out and pounces on them.
They are still only a little interested in the plastic ball with
fla****e lights and chirpie sounds.
Little Sister has decided that my right foot is friendly and that my
left foot is the enemy, often using the right foot as refuge from her
attacks on the left. Sometimes she abandons all refuge and pounces the
left foot and ankle, while chewing viciously (rowr! rowr!) on the
sock.
She is also a climber. She has mastered the art of climbing up on the
couch, while Little Brother is still struggling with the mechanics of
it a bit. She will climb on the couch and he, overburdened with
curiosity, will climb up to see what his sister is doing, at which
time she will jump off the couch, having lured him up there.
After about 45 minutes of flat-out manic kitten play time, I sit down
on the couch, slightly away from them. Little Brother snuggles up
against my leg. Little Sister climbs up my tummy and snuggles in my
left hand and arm. As I gently massage their tiny foreheads, their
little eyes close and teensy purrs come forth.
Occasionally, an eye will open slightly as if to say, "I'm NOT
sleepy!", before dropping off into sleep again.
They are so precious!
Hugs and Purrs,
Mark
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