The Baby at Nine Months

Yesterday, I put my kid in a box. She was screaming and unhappy everywhere else I put here, might as well go for broke. It kept her happy for a surprising amount of time. I think I washed dishes.

She still won't crawl, eat solid foods, or allow any teeth to come through her gums. I'm trying not to panic, which means NOT going to the internet and googling "eight month old doesn't crawl". Because I did that and the results range from "crawling is normal at 9 to 10 months" to "it could be the result of central nervous system damage...". Good old internet.

Today Evelyn turns nine months old. To mark the occasion, she took a nap with the cat. The cat jumped in her bed as I was feeding her in preparation for her afternoon nap, when he pointedly looked at me  before settling down as if to say, "you're stuck under the baby, so watch this."

I shook the bed and tried to get him out, but he just looked like he was enjoying his free massage. So, I put the baby in on top of/next to him. I think I made my point.

Who know what tomorrow will bring? Maybe crawling, and the minute she pulls out all the books from the bookshelf and gets into my purse to rip out all the checks, I know I will wonder why I wanted it to happen so badly in the first place. Immobility is not so bad.

Tastes Like Chicken

It isn't clear where one body ends and the other begins!*

Not from the same litter, but brothers, nonetheless.

*Yes, I will be posting a lot of kitten pictures. It's just who I am.

This is What One Pound Looks Like

The adults in this house are suckers. Give us a warm fuzzball that poops in a box inside our house, and we pay for the privilege.

When the Humane Society has a two-for-one kitten adoption sale, we think it's better than a free ice cream cone. Ice cream melts. Cats eat and poop and live for years and years.

Meet Dewey. This is OC's kitty.



She had the name all ready, was calling him by name before we arrived home.

Myself, on the other hand, had to think a while before Milo came to mind.



More cats. Just what we need!



"O hai. U have box for poop?"



In fact, it is EXACTLY what we needed.

Dakota

Sometime after 3:30 this morning, Dakota died. This house feels empty and sad with his goneness. Where is he? I just want to hold his furry little body.

There is nothing malicious in his look, only love and want of petting.


A car alarm woke me at 2 am. Something told me to go and be with Dakota, so I did. I scratched his cheeks, I pet his head, I told him it was okay. I told him I was crying because I was really going to miss him. I carried his little weak self wrapped in a towel around the kitchen for a while. He cried. I realized he needed to go to the bathroom. I got a clean towel and wrapped him up again.

More crying. Bathroom again. No problem, got a fresh towel and we were snuggling again.

His eyes were open, he was alert. He knew. I knew. We were together.

Finally, I put him back in his fuzzy bed and covered him with a towel, the heater close to his head. He fell asleep. When I found him a few hours later, he was gone. Still warm.

I told him it was okay, and it is okay. He had his life and I was lucky to be a part of it. I just miss him terribly.

My heart is broken. There are no words. Unconditional love, warm and fuzzy love with four legs....



What a cat.