It's a reasonable sacrifice
The cats are six months old today.
For their half-birthday, we gave them warm goat's milk with a little cinnamon and honey. (
movingfinger had seen it sold as a cat treat in pet stores. It's more or less what I drink at night, except I don't add cinnamon.) We knew they liked plain goat's milk, but we weren't sure how the fancier version would go over.
They liked it.
Happy half-birthday, wonderful cats. Long may you hunt through our hallways at night and sleep on my hands when I'm typing.
For their half-birthday, we gave them warm goat's milk with a little cinnamon and honey. (
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They liked it.
Happy half-birthday, wonderful cats. Long may you hunt through our hallways at night and sleep on my hands when I'm typing.
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Mac, we learn, is fond of rather good honey. He took to sitting by my feet waiting for me to set my empty plate on the floor, for him to clean it. (This because Karen wouldn't let him jump on the table, and I wouldn't let him clean the plate before it was empty.) There was also toast, of course - he's fond of toast - and butter too, but we have scientifically established the importance of the honey: this last week I've been having marmalade instead. He has no interest in marmalade, and the disappointment shows in every stompy footfall as he abandons the unclean plate, after waiting and everything.
(Also, do they sing as they hunt through your hallways? Mac serenades his kills. Sometimes in the very bedroom.)
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Tonight Autolycus tried to explore his feelings toward avocado coconut-milk ice cream. I did not let him. Then I put the empty bowl in the sink and ran water into it and he stuck his head into the bowl of avocado-and-coconut-flavored water. Verdict: I yelled at him to get out of the sink, so he probably won't share his findings with me.
(Also, do they sing as they hunt through your hallways? Mac serenades his kills. Sometimes in the very bedroom.)
Not usually, actually! They tend to talk during less action-packed moments, as when anybody is doing anything that is not noticing the cat.
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Science is not angry with you, but it is very disappointed.
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Science seems to have gotten over it by now. I had to put him out of my office tonight because I couldn't work with him purring and kneading and climbing and butting everywhere he could conceivably reach and some places he was really going to have to work for. (Seriously, cat? Under my sweater in the small of my back?)
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Prrrt!
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Apparently most cats hate citrus (though I have heard of exceptions (http://rushthatspeaks.livejournal.com/504850.html)).
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We have not yet had food theft, but we've had some serious cases of hopeful paws and table-jumping. Hestia also once tried to climb inside a bag of guacamole chips.
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We have told them that the internet wishes them well!
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Nine
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They are cats now! They are young cats! We call them little cats still, but they are not that small anymore! It's wonderful.
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I have conveyed your good wishes with petting!
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And for instance, those original photos were--or at least, the first one was--2048 pixels across in the original, but displays when you click on it at 600 pixels across, and in the grid, when we see all of the photos at once, at 267 pixels across. That gives you an idea of relative size.
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We think so!
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Possibly your kittens do not know that cats don't eat cinnamon or honey. Or maybe they do not know they are cats?
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I believe they know they are cats, because we tell them frequently—and they behave in all ways like cats, including the pursuit of inconvenience—but I also believe they are open-minded toward food, as in, they can see no reason not to be eating anything except mysteriously we won't let them. We are trying to delay the onset of mooching, but it's a temporary solution at best.