When our cat was an adolescent — not a kitten, an adolescent. It’s an important distinction because kittens are adorable imps and adolescents are adorable jerks. So as I was saying, when our cat was an adolescent he spent all day being cute and all night demolishing our house. We were living in a house
For the past almost-eight years our cat has watched in horror as we have, on a nearly every-two-year cycle, added babies to our family. He was annoyed after David was born, incredulous when Mary was born, apoplectic after Thomas, and after Anna’s arrival he’s been trying to blend in with the furniture as he silently plots
The past few weeks have been really cold and snowy, so we haven’t been letting Brigham outside like we normally do. He’s spending all his extra time looking for places to hide from the kids, and gazing out the window dreaming about…what do cats dream about? …Autonomy? Whenever I write a post about our cat, I use
Brigham’s fan club has a very active, capable, creative, passionate president and founding member. His position as Brigham’s number one fan is pretty well-established, so I, personally, would never suggest a change in leadership. That’s not what I’m suggesting at all. I am suggesting, though, that someone else might be preparing to challenge his status as
David is slowly warming up to his sister. And by “warming up” I mean “ignoring”, which I think is best case scenario for a newborn and an almost-two-year old. He checks on her, gives her trains, or occasionally runs up to me and says something like, “MARY’S DRINKING WATER!” And I have run through the