Time for Fur

It has been quite awhile since I posted any photos of my babies, so without further ado….

This is one of Wyatt’s favorite places to nap, particularly after a vigorous romp at Point Isabel with his best friend Piccolo. We have discussed writing a book, Wyatt Has 3 Mommies, because he really does look to Ruth as another parent. I don’t know that we would become as infamous as Leslea Newman if we do this. I used to live in the same town as Leslea, where I was often complimented by people saying I looked like her. We definitely have the same opinion on never having too many black shoes (can't find the article online, but if you read it and are a femme or dearly love one, you understand). Somewhere in my files I probably still have a standard rejection letter from her, with a handwritten note about my work. I had submitted a poem for an anthology she was editing. That is my singular claim to fame with regards to my writing. Staggering I know. When next we meet you should kneel at my feet.

Here is my sweet Elliott. He’s our Greta “I vont to be alone” Garbo kitty. Elliott is also a great story teller, regaling us nightly. I only wish I understood cat better. It’s on the calendar right after I learn Spanish, which I should have done eons ago because I need to know it RIGHT NOW for my client’s family. Lately he and Wyatt have been playing together more, but Wyatt has no concept of sharing. Not. At. All. A new toy came into the house recently. One of the tennis ball type things with a squirrel tail attached (not real, despite the title of the post. Of course the two parts were immediately separated by Wyatt the Destroyer. Well, Elliott LOVES this tail. Great gusts of kitty glee emanate from him when he romps around the house batting at this tail, waves of triumph roll through when he strides into the living room carrying it. Until Wyatt spies him. In a heartbeat it is over, the joy has disintegrated as Wyatt, without a shred of empathy, wrenches said tail from Elliott, carrying to the opposite end of the room. Poor poor Elliott looks confused but amazingly seems to bear no grudge as moments later they are relaxing next to one other, each grooming, mimicking the parallel play of toddlers.

And lastly here are two gray kittens curled together. You know it 's even hard for me to tell which on is which in this photo! Isn't that terrible. Bad Mama! They are so far from identical. Really. Okay, I think I have it now The one behind is Gemma Rae,and the one with his head on her haunches is Atticus. Each has a very distintive profile, very different fur texture. Both have the very faintiest of stripes. The most obvious difference is that Gemma is a manx. In looking at some sites, I just found information that I didn't know about manxs. Gemma has the trait of an almost inaudible meow. She is so quiet in that way, but has one of the best purrs EVER. She doesn't quite have the standard body type which is interesting, she is far from stocky. Of course she is still a young 'un, so time will tell. Atticus has a very flat triangluar face, is highly verbal, and a tad clingy. Okay, very clingy. At least he distributes his time between us so that we both get to suffer the blue screen of death when he walks across the laptop trying settle on our chests for his multiple cuddle sessions each day.