I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a muff like this rabbit fur kitten. The attached head! The missing eye! (I’m a sucker for a cyclops.) I feel envious of the child that kept her paws warm inside this little bit of cute antiquity.
(No actual kittens harmed. I can’t speak for the bunnies, unfortunately.)
[Via Pinterest, home of all things good.]
I can’t think of anything that provides me with more pleasure than the company of animals. These tiny pink pads against glass? Well, I’m kvelling. Find more cuteness in the Dreamcats Flickr pool — my go-to for my “enh!” fix.
I know I should be disturbed by this, but I just can’t stop laughing.
I realized that it’s been a while since I posted any photos from my apartment. Our once tiny kittens are now nearly full-grown kattens (teenage cats!), and we are still so endlessly gaga over them — it’s kind of embarrassing, really. They’re totally our cat children.
As such, here’s Bug, modeling the latest in cat-to-blanket complementary colors with my new Pendleton. I’ve collected quilts and vintage blankets for a few years now, but I could never find one as lovely (or big — I needed a queen size) as the Silver Bark blanket. After counting my pennies and receiving a few monetary gifts from family for Christmas, I went buck-wild and finally bought it. With the addition of some cozy flannel sheets and a down comforter underneath, I’ve officially created a black hole that is nearly impossible to get out of in the morning. Bug and Dagmar are equally smitten.
This weekend was not good one for me — trips to the emergency vet, scary thoughts and lots of hand wringing. I hate to be a total Debbie Downer, and I’ve tried to avoid it for a long time on this blog, but this time: well, it’s justified. Here goes.
Our precious kitten Bug stopped eating last Thursday. We’d had her spayed the week before and she’d been on antibiotics for a few days afterward. As soon as the medication ran out she became a ghost of her former self. Normally she’s talkative (mew mew mew!), the life of the party, wants to sit on shoulders and laps and cuddle; now she was hiding in a box in our loft, didn’t respond to toys and had lost the brightness in her eyes. We went to the vet after her hind legs began to shake and she walked with a limp. We soon found out she had an infection of some sort and a temperature of almost 105 degrees (three degrees above normal for a cat, and at the point where hospitalization is necessary). Unfortunately, our vet could not hospitalize her and we took her home, wondering what to do. That night we ended up at a 24 hour emergency vet (I highly recommend NYC Veterinary Services if you’re in Brooklyn — so sweet and helpful), and after some reassuring blood work and another examination we headed home. Now it’s hand-feeding by syringe, lots of naps and watching for progress.
This has been one of the scariest weekends I’ve experienced, and the feeling of total paralysis is just devastating. Bug seems to be doing better, and we’re hopeful that the antibiotics will work their magic soon. In the meantime, we’re cuddling her like there’s no tomorrow. Send good thoughts, if you can, and thanks for listening.
