I'm sure everyone's used to Frankie, the brindle chiweenie, being scared stiff frequently, but
why-oh-why is the chiweenie petrified this time???
Perhaps it is because the momma cat goes from this to . . .
. . . THIS!
Or perhaps even . . .
. . . THAT!
It is true, furiends, we're under cat siege.
We are sentenced to live with seven felines!
The other day, M put the chiweenie and me in the outdoor cat enclosure for "socialization" purposes. Somebody call the humane society.
The kittens are now three months old. They are healthy, playful, curious, and mischievous.
Here are some recent kitten pictures:
The tuxedo kitten. The only male of the litter.
He is the leader. He is a terror in disguise, but M dotes on him. He knows about her weakness so when she calls him he comes running and screaming. I hope Charlie and M live happily ever after together.
Our calico kitten.
She's beautiful and she knows it. She spends her days lounging around, mostly on her back, sucking at her paws. I think she's a bit "slow," if you know what I mean.
Our muted tortie.
Clorox, aka Alley Alarm, aka Squirt is the one to watch out for. She's the wildest of the bunch. If I didn't know for a fact that she was raised here, I'd call her a feral kitten. The chiweenie and I need to be careful around her because she snaps.
As you can see, the little kittens are all growing up fast while developing their personalities. M had made an appointment with an animal behaviorist, but it was simply too expensive. In lieu of, she decided to recruit her human friends that she equips with squirt bottles and the ultrasonic pet trainer (the PetZoom) the minute they step through the door. She says instead of paying an animal behaviorist, she'd rather spend the money taking her friends to dinner as a way to thank them for helping out. Any volunteers?
We are one nutty mixed household and we wouldn't have it any other way.