“There is, incidentally, no way of talking about cats that enables one to come off as a sane person.” ~ Dan Greenberg

Posted: November 16, 2011 in Photography
Tags: , , , , , ,

Enough time has passed that I can post an all-cat entry, right?

It’s odd – we didn’t really notice that they were growing, then one day we just suddenly realised they’d doubled in size.

Exhibit A – check out Pip when we first got him:

vs. Pip now:

They grow up so fast!

We also continue to find them in increasingly ridiculous configurations. (I’m not sure if you can tell, but Wilfred is actually lying on his back here with Pip between his legs.) As it happens, Pip is also a closet Dexter fan: every time I watch the show, he hops up beside me to watch.

Ever since the kittens took a liking to the sofa, by the way, Alf has mysteriously remembered that it used to be his favourite spot and muscled his way back in. Ditto Wilfred’s breadmaker. And Pip’s favourite cushion. He still can’t make it past the first level of the cat tree, however, so they still have a place to call their own.

Pip grows ever closer to his wildcat roots with each passing day. Last month he figured out that he’s able to climb the curtains.

In profile: Roman nose.

Face-on: Care Bear nose.

And Wilfred: who has no nose to speak of and whose sleeping face is basically my favourite thing in the world. (Shockingly, me waking him up by taking his picture is not his favourite thing in the world.)

Because you can never have enough pictures of a just-bathed Persian.

I mentioned before that Pip has figured out how to climb curtains. That still pales in comparison to his discovery that his big, kangaroo legs allow him to leap to literally any surface in the house. Yes, he is standing on a door here.

Contrary to the impression this entry gives, Wilf does not receive a preternatural number of baths. These were taken a month apart, honest.

Mohawk! Which, evidently, was the final straw. He wouldn’t even look at us afterwards. Sadly, that wasn’t the worst of his traumas that month and – one trip to the vet later – I returned home with one groggy, unmanned – but otherwise healthy – Persian. Apparently, all of the nurses were very taken with him and were taking turns to cuddle him in the recovery room. (They continue to ask after Wilfred even when we go back with either of his brothers.)

Aaaand while I sadly wasn’t able to dress them up in October (I’m sorry, Google, I don’t think you understand. I don’t want a cat costume for Halloween…I want a Halloween costume for a cat), rest assured that my mother is hard at work fitting them in time for Christmas. Ho-ho-holy shit, they’re going to hate us.


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