Goldie haz it.
Since the kittens have been getting bigger, and also more cozy with Mr. Kitty (their relationship with Henry could best be described as stand-offish), there has been a lot of pile-up nap time in the afternoon.
It's pretty typical for the little ones to be wrapped around each other (they usually wrestle a little before falling asleep), with Mr. Kitty playing big brother.
I've never had kittens this young before, so I was not aware of how much they sleep (a lot). This is about as active as 2pm gets in this household.
On Friday we went to the SPCA in Oakland to look for a kitten for Schwa. Somebody with high energy and an urge for play that will meet his particular playing needs.
And, well, we came home with two kittens, because we found one who was perfect for Schwa and the other one was just adorable in her own right.
That's Dot on top, Dash on the bottom.
Dot is Dot because she has this cute little chest blaze:
Dash is Dash because he never sits still:
(That's the two of them wrestling.)
Now the re-catting of the household is over, thank you very much. I believe we are at twice as many cats as I originally planned on ending up with.
Goldie's not too clear on what exactly a tramp stamp is, but she's trying.
I've never been a cat tree person, but you can consider me a convert. When Schwa came home with us, he came with a tree, and he loves it to tiny pieces. So when we added Henry Pudding (because he sometimes looks like Henry VIII and sometimes looks like a plum pudding), we used the extra-fancy coupon that came with him to get him a tree of his own that wasn't all Schwa'd over.
Not that that kept Mr. Kitty from enjoying it, of course. There are no real possessions in cat-land.
But Henry uses the tree quite a bit, often at the same time as Schwa.
And Schwa, being an idiot, shows very little common sense about how much bigger than him Henry is.
One minute later, Schwa wapped at Henry and Henry got him back. Don't mess with Henry.
From left to right: Cher, Dolly, Liza, and Carole. Not pictured: Janis. You can see it's still a little muddy in the chicken yard, and somebody tracked dirt on the eggs while laying or rearranging the eggs afterward.
A couple of friends had a kitty they needed to rehome. He was just too active and too high-energy for their new baby. Since we were in the market for a kitty, we brought him home for a trial, and things are going great.
We've renamed him Schwa. His former name was "Dingo" which we agreed was a bad-luck name around babies.
He came with his own cat tree, which has been a real boon. When we finished the dining room walls, we moved the tree by the back window and now he spends most of the day up there staring at the birds in the garden.
He also uses the vantage point to keep track of what the dogs are doing.
It's not his only spot. He's adapting quite well to living in an old house under construction.
We had Rosie's BFF neighbor dog Beanie overnight, and in the morning we had pancakes. So beanie got to take part in our weekly ritual. She was pretty good at it, but it's definitely much more work to get three dogs to cooperate for photos than it is one or two.
When the sun gets low in the sky, a chicken's instinct says it's time to get somewhere up high.
Goldie socked out in the hallway because it was too hot.
