Uh, sort of. Not humans. Thank goodness, no more humans.
Interwebs, meet Boris and Batman.
I’m not really a cat person. Super allergic, they’re weird, not to mention not nearly as smart and sweet as dogs. But, for cats, these little kittens are pretty cool. They’re playful, great with the human boys in the house, and absurdly cuddly. It’s like they know if they rub all over my face I’m going to go into allergic overdrive.
Anyway. They’re eight months old, pretty small (this picture doesn’t show just how little they are), and a lot less hygienic than the dogs. You may wonder why I was on board for getting cats in the first place. After losing little Lenny Lou at Christmas, CLP wasn’t feeling like he had any pets of his own. Jovee and Gambit were my dogs before we were married, and as much as he loves them and vice versa, they aren’t “his”. I suggested a puppy, but I don’t think he’s ready for that yet. Secondary reason: we thought we had mice in our basement (we don’t). But cats are good for that sort of thing, practically speaking.
So now we have two kittens. Originally they were named Batman and Robin. I wanted to name them Bullet Tooth Tony (Bullet for short) and Turkish; husband and mini Gwinn were against it. Mini Gwinn kept calling one of them Boris, so now their names (according to the three year old) are Batman and Boris Tooth Tony. Whatever. Most of the time I call them ” big one” and “little one”, because although they are brothers, one of them is quite a bit bigger than the other.
So now it feels like I spend the majority of my day cleaning up poop from small living beings or feeding them so they can all make more poop for me to clean up.
Hurray, I’m the poopsmith.