I’ve been blogging about all three of our new kittens a lot lately, with lots of photos of all of them piled up together, as if they were a conglomerate or a hive mind. The fact that all three like to play and snuggle together so much makes us ridiculously happy, and we have a tendency to reach for the camera whenever they do it. Which is about twenty times a day. We have a lot of cat pictures right now.
But I think the time is ripe to introduce each of them individually. And I’m going to start with Talisker.
Talisker is, I think, the easiest of the three to like. She’s bouncy and playful and mischievous, but never aggressive or bitey (well, hardly ever), and she switches from bouncy and playful to sweet and friendly in a nanosecond. Her sweet side is ridiculously sweet: she curls up into a tiny ball in your arms, or folds herself up with her paws stretched out and her chin resting on them, or settles down onto your chest and purrs into your face. She does have a restless side: when she sits in your lap, she has a decided tendency to shift positions twenty times, or to wander off and come back and wander off and come back and wander off and come back, before finally settling down. But when she settles and starts to snuggle you, you stay snuggled.
Her facial expression is in an almost permanent state of classic kitten cuteness. (Variation 12: Friendly And Inquisitive.) It’s as if she’s always saying “Oh hai” or “Baroo?” (See photo above.) Her fur is super soft and silky. And I love that just the tips of her paws are white. It’s like she has a French manicure.
She introduced herself to us at the adoption event by leaping onto Ingrid’s shoulders, and we knew immediately that we had to take her. She confirmed this decision by scampering and chasing and tussling with her sister Comet (a hobby they continue avidly), restlessly wandering back and forth from my lap to Ingrid’s, and finally settling on my lap and going to sleep.
Her favorite toy at the moment is a crumpled-up piece of paper. In addition to the standard “batting it around the apartment like a maniac” and “playing keep-away from her sister” crumpled-up piece of paper activities, she also carries it around in her mouth like it’s her kill. (We don’t have any pics of this yet, as she rarely holds still long enough for us to get a shot.) Our neighbor Patty, a retired vet tech, thinks we might be able to teach her to fetch.
The explanation of her name: She was named after the single-malt Scotch.
Here are eleventy billion photos.
Here she’s sitting on my lap helping me blog.
This is the day she discovered the bathroom sink. There are now pawprints all over it every day.
This is her belly on the leopard-print pillow. I love how you can’t quite tell which is which.
Here she’s on my lap at the adoption event, looking like Yoda. “Skritch, or skritch not. There is no try.”
Also at the adoption event. Looking very noble in Ingrid’s arms.
Do I have to even say anything at all?
And say it all together: AWWWWWWWWWWW!