Hurt Feelings

I bad.

Oscar was being especially rambunctious this morning while we were folding laundry, and so I sent him to "jail" -- trapping him under a flipped laundry basket . (I've previously done this to Billy once in a while -- he would explore and then bust out with a cazilla paw under the edge.)

Billy then promptly hopped up on the basket, which meant Oscar wasn't getting out any time soon, or at least until Billy got bored (which wasn't long). Photos were taken.

But after Billy had jumped down, Oscar meowed. A very quiet and sad meow from shelter kitten who lives in a cage.

Oscar was immediately released from detention, and he hopped down and scooted under the bed, away from the evil cage. I left him there to calm down, now that it's been awhile I'll go see if he wants an ear scritched. But no forced retrieval, and certainly no more cages today for our junior tiger.

Update: The trauma has faded, Oscar was last seen asleep in the library cat tower.

Photo Weekend: Kitten pile on Mom

So I was stretched out on the sofa doing some editing, when along came Billy and curled up at my feet. (Actually, walked across my stomach and then curled up at my feet. Whatever...) Then Whitey came along, sniffed around the edges of the blanket, and curled up along my legs, just north of Billy. Then Oscar came by, stood on my chest, thought about wrestling with Whitey for his space, and finally snuggled down next to my shoulders. That's his back paws in the foreground:


All very warm and snuggly. Too warm, actually, and I got up a few minutes later. Which may have been the goal, since all three boys stayed in the warm spot for a while.

POW!

Whitey has a fresh scratch on his nose, dead in the middle. Good thing he's not going to the prom this year, it would be the talk of the ball.

Oscar, as usual, is suspected.

Back in the High Life Again

Just like when the furnace threw Oscar off his pace and he recovered in a day or so, he is back to normal (for him). Even though he ate at an odd time last night (so the valets could go out to dinner), he chowed down. He also wanted to snuggle at 3 AM when I accidently woke him up, and this morning was a happy breakfast consumer.

The Catzillas? They woke up yesterday happy, and for all we know their example helped show Oscar that yes, life remains good as an Feline Overlord of the Kitten Farm.

The Day Spa from Hell

We were organized enough to do an errands two-fer yesterday, and the boys are still recovering.

Errand # 1 was to get the boys teeth cleaned and be given their annual shots. This meant they all went to the vet without breakfast, got general anesthetic, and generally thrown for a loop.

Errand # 2 was to get the carpets cleaned. This meant when the groggy disoriented boys came home, their Kitten Farm was rearranged and smelled funny. Billy and Oscar both were demanding more personal space than normal, with some growling and hissing going on.

Even after we got the furniture put back in place, they were sufficiently disoriented and generally unhappy with the state of things that Whitey was both late for dinner and didn't finish it, and Oscar barely had anything.

Whitey also asked to burrow under the covers overnight (which is often his happy place during the day, but not normal at night), which Katherine blessed. Oscar didn't sleep on the bed at all. Billy found his normal spot, chest high between his valets.

They all seem more like their normal selves this morning, I'm off to feed them breakfast and see how they are doing.

Update:

The Catzilla brothers are only dismayed by that their breakfast treat (some wet food, in case their teeth hurt) was only half of breakfast.

Oscar, on the other hand, needed to be catered to upstairs and then only took a few bites. Since he ate something, we're monitoring him but not panicked ... yet.

Photo Friday: Extra from Down Under

My employer held Take Your Child to Work Day, and our administrative assistent brought in the marsupial overlord-in-training of a friend.

From Picnik Photos

Just Like a Big Boy

Oscar has eaten his last three meals in the dining room with the boys. Our little kitten is almost all grown up.

He actually eats the far end of of the room, because for going on six years the Catzillas have been naturally eaten with Whitey on the right and Billy on the left, and Billy moving to the right to raid Whitey's dish when he got bored. This means Oscar really can't be right, left, or right of left (i.e. middle). :-)

But we're impressed with all three boys for co-existing with food in the room.