In an attempt to escape rigid the social order of my kingdom, my lowliest peaseant has made a mad dash for the door. Mommy scareamed. Daddy swore. She was back inside in a minute however. Now she sits at the window, pinning for a freedom that I will not indulge. Why go outside when food is in here?
While comfortably lounging in my recent conquest, I have had much time to contemplate the most recent additions to my kingdom. These “fosters” are quite unlike the fosters before. They are not riddled with the plague. They have not come and gone in a timely manner either. No, instead the noises coming from the room have steadily grown from pathetic, high pitched mewls to the loud rumble tumble of little feet.
They arrived six weeks ago. Two carriers holding, what I believed were two cats. Except I heard mommy say there were three more, tucked beneath their Mommy’s protective paws.
For the first month, we heard very little. The kits grew from newborns, gaining strength each and every day. They’re fuzzy and indistinct but maybe Just maybe I might be starting to like the furry little fuz balls. As long as they stay out of my reach.