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Feline frolicking at the farmette

It's a grey day at the farmette. Warmer than it should be for late February. It's pretty quiet around here - except for the ruckus caused by certain newly-rescued kittens.


It's been almost exactly three months since the two wee ones were unceremoniously dumped on our doorstep, so I thought I'd do an update on how the farmette operations are working, now that there's FIVE fur balls in the family.

Freddie has slipped into the groove quite easily. He has a way of walking panther-like, with shoulder blades slowly pumping that says, 'Yep, you bet I belong here.' He's endlessly curious and has found the router on the desk in my office to be quite a lovely bum warmer.


He's a bit of a pill, though. We're still working on keeping him OFF the kitchen counter. The cats have full access to everything except the counter and tables - where humans eat. It's kind of a hygienic thing with me. He (and now Wilma) get down pretty smartly, as Rob says, sarcastically, when they're threatened with violence.


Fred also reminds me a bit of Nora. She couldn't meow either - opening wide and trying but not even a peep coming out. He, like she, also has a penchant for computer monitors and TVs. Yesterday, we were watching the Scotties women's curling tournament. Boy howdy, it was FUN chasing that round disc up and down the screen.

Wilma is still pretty skittish, although she does come down and mix with the family now. She's pretty spry and loves to pounce on Freddie. She backs up, crouches down, does the bum wiggle, and explodes into the air with that joyful burst of energy only a kitten can produce.


Then she chases him (with her lead paws) up and down the length of the house. It's SO fun to watch. She also has big appetite for such a skinny malinky and has already got mealtime etched into her biological clock. She's an odd-looking wee tortie, with her black slash moustache and startled-earwig eyes. But she's a keeper.

Calvin is much better than at the beginning. Initially, he actually hid whenever the kittens came down from their room upstairs.


Then, there was the defensive growling when one of the little ones got too close. But now, he's actually starting to play again and has calmed down, somewhat. He even shares the 'cat castle'.


Bea is still at the growling stage, but she spends most of her day lumping on our bed. She has a kind of resigned, grudging 'alright, I'll tolerate them' kind of attitude.


Finally, Hobbesy. What can I say? Our gentle giant, who always seems to be meandering by when there's hissing or growling from the others. I've seen him go up and nudge Calvin as if to say, 'chill out, it's okay, they're just kids.' He truly is a peach and I can't believe he's seven and a half years old now.


So there you have it. The fur ball family growing up at the farmette. There's a LOT more dust and cat hair on everything. Mealtime is a bit of a circus, timing wise, trying to ensure they all eat their own (and not anyone else's). Still, wouldn't trade it for anything. Until next week.










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