Tooter...

Well, they're still here.

They've taken to attempting to eat mamas food, and drinking her water. They stick their little noses over the edge of the bowl and plunge their faces into the water, only to sneeze incessantly for minutes afterwards. They've tipped the food bowl over, and eat the little kernels off the ground.


They dig in her litter box, only to kick litter out of the box and not to use it for its true purpose.

And the stink. P.U. I'm not sure if it's the food or what, but Maaaannn, she's one gaseous kitty. You'd think if she was trying to woo me to keeping her, she'd at least try to keep 'em in, but she's as free as a bird when it comes to letting them go. It's especially delightful when she's on your lap, twirling in circles and just so happens to fire one off when she's faced the other way.

I gotta tell ya folks, it's getting old. My legs are scratched up from them scaling my skin, and Tooter...ahem I mean Layla, has taken to jumping the baby gate to prowl the house. She'll seek down fat cat and wail at him in a very eerie scream, then chase him down until his fat little legs can no longer carry him. Then she probably turns and blasts him with one of her death bombs. Poor boy.


Once they've had their shots, it's back out to the barn for this little gangster family.


Then I see this...





And I think...awww shucks, they're not soooo bad. And there's always Febreeze...