It's all over. Temporary my a$$. She stays. Totally stays. And she's mine. Totally mine. I decided I need a cat. Or, rather, the cat needs me. I am not sure her name is Ollie. More will be revealed.
Today we had our nails trimmed - no pics, there were no hands to take any. Ever try to cut the nails of a four-five week old kitten without hurting or scaring it, since you're planning on this as a recurrent activity? Mr. Wonderful held her. I did not get a picture of that either, but it happened. And my dad held her and pronounced her a "cute little thing...heh,heh,heh..." Then she attacked him and he laughed more. We spent some time determining gender - two rational adults staring at the business end of a kitten making a determination? Hysterical. So my week in pictures? Well, there's no yarn:
There's no fear. There's big blue eyes. Mini-cat behaviors, like twitching our tail but it's too young to twitch right, or pouncing, but we have no balance so we fall over.
Someone help me. I've forgotten my personal prime directive - "I hate cats." I find myself perusing the PetEdge website and looking at stuff like this or this or THIS, while my brain screams "but she neeeeeds it, and it'll protect the furniture..." So far I am doing well. I have not bought it anything. Yet. It's got to be some thwarted maternal instinct gone haywire. HEEELLLPP MEEE!!!!!!!! (no. don't. I am having too much fun!)
Now. I think it's almost sweater weather. And I think at babies need sweaters. Even fur babies.
(Man, we don't know anything about where this animal came from. I find that the height of stupidity and a thing I shun. It's probably gonna have rabies or something equally as horrible just as punishment for taking in an animal I know nothing about, which is an activity I totally disapprove of.)