It's hard to believe, but it's been one year since we brought a tiny 6-week-old kitten home. We named her in the car, and when Jon said, "how about Paisley?" we knew it suited her perfectly. She was the sweetest kitten, and since she was still so young when we got her, she didn't even eat solid food and she slept all the time. Her preferred sleeping spot: anywhere with us.
She loved to climb our shoulders, especially while we cooked, and she would howl and beg for food, mostly if it involved garlic, lemon, or her favorite, fresh parmesan cheese. She would also howl at the fridge for canned cat food... she had us so pegged, and we're afraid we let her get away with so much that we created a little monster.
Mouse and now Mouse's feet and hands have always been (and still are) her favorite toys. She used to run off with him and bury him under our bed, his string dragging between her legs all the way through the house.
Then she got more attitude.
And branched out with food.
And took a looong trip with us.
Then she spent the summer keeping my pregnant self company (we spent many a nap together) and wishing she could go outside.
But really, she just spent most of her days sleeping on scrap fabric on the the floor of the office, conveniently located just across from the air conditioner.
Eventually she discovered she loves to sleep on her back, and she still loves her bed, though we don't think she sucks her blankie anymore.
She's so good with Emory still...she loves to come get us when he's crying, and if we have recently come home and he's still in his car seat, she'll hang out next to him until we've taken him out. We've been socializing them lately, and though she's not crazy about him hitting her wildly out of excitement, she'll only swipe at my hand and not his (knock on wood). And for the record, when she's scolded, Emory cracks up. Such a little brother.
And here she is tonight, one year after we brought her home, still beautiful, and on her way to being a great cat.
on her way...
She loved to climb our shoulders, especially while we cooked, and she would howl and beg for food, mostly if it involved garlic, lemon, or her favorite, fresh parmesan cheese. She would also howl at the fridge for canned cat food... she had us so pegged, and we're afraid we let her get away with so much that we created a little monster.
Mouse and now Mouse's feet and hands have always been (and still are) her favorite toys. She used to run off with him and bury him under our bed, his string dragging between her legs all the way through the house.
Then she got more attitude.
And branched out with food.
And took a looong trip with us.
Then she spent the summer keeping my pregnant self company (we spent many a nap together) and wishing she could go outside.
But really, she just spent most of her days sleeping on scrap fabric on the the floor of the office, conveniently located just across from the air conditioner.
Eventually she discovered she loves to sleep on her back, and she still loves her bed, though we don't think she sucks her blankie anymore.
She's so good with Emory still...she loves to come get us when he's crying, and if we have recently come home and he's still in his car seat, she'll hang out next to him until we've taken him out. We've been socializing them lately, and though she's not crazy about him hitting her wildly out of excitement, she'll only swipe at my hand and not his (knock on wood). And for the record, when she's scolded, Emory cracks up. Such a little brother.
And here she is tonight, one year after we brought her home, still beautiful, and on her way to being a great cat.
on her way...
No comments:
Post a Comment