The Trouble with Tribbles
But first a word on Kai and Xena. Kai has recovered well but vanity, and a letter from his agent, prevent me from showing any post-op pictures. The Photogenic One is currently wearing dark sunglasses, sitting on his chair regaling the male orange kittens with dark tales of what awaits them when they reach six months.
Xena, having had the more intrusive operation, is quieter. Though there was one scene when she shouted down the phone to her agent, "You never told me I'd have to have a histerical-ectomy!"
And she seems to have grown remarkably attached to wicker. I think it must be some kind of Stockholm Syndrome as we took her to the vets in a wicker cat basket. Since her return she's taken to sitting on the basket. And last night she eschewed the warm comfy bed to climb into the wicker clothes basket. Very strange.
And now the pictures. For those who read my Wheely Bin post you can see the urgent need for tribble countermeasures. Human climbing frame brought to her knees by invading tribble horde. Luckily they didn't bring the Sherpas.
More climbing, this time a solo leg traverse with lots of kitten claw pitons.
Ow! Not a caption for a picture but a scream from the typist as two cats claw my neck and a third climbs my leg. Back to the pictures (with difficulty: I have a kitten balancing on my right forearm) and next up we have a very brave young tribble who has yet to learn that long-lived tribbles do not drink water while standing in the dog's food bowl. The dog, a deerhound crocodile cross, is not sure if she's been insulted or offered an early Christmas present. Mmmm, tribble pie:)
Next we have a new creature, an orange starfish, which magically appears on our floor around meal times.
And, finally, three tribbles blink into the Indian summer that we've been experiencing these last few days.
Now where's my Wheely Bin...