Saturday, March 7, 2009

another long silence, and now Frankie

since my last post a lot has happened in the yarn world, most of which I probably don't remember well enough to type about them now.

The most significant though is... I got a kitten! He was 12 weeks old when I picked him up from the SPCA on 12/20, all 3lbs of him. Now he's almost 5 months old, and somewhat above 6lbs, probably 6.5lbs. He's a brown mackerel tabby-abbysinian mix according to my vet, and he's as friendly and outgoing as a puppy.

Unfortunately, my boyfriend's kitty, a 6 1/2 year old tortie named Shelby, does not get along with Frankie. But Frankie thinks Shelby is great... so they have this annoying little brother to older wiser sister relationship. Problem is, Frankie will be bigger than Shelby when he's all grown up, she's only 7.5lbs, itty bitty kitty, and they're about the same size right now.

Also, I haven't been able to teach Frankie quite yet (and he's still young and stubborn) that my yarn is not his toy. I've had to start making sure that I don't leave a random ball of yarn near the floor because if he finds it... oh my, I found a yarn birdsnest all over the bedroom floor one night. I should have taken a picture of it before gathering it together to toss, it would have been funny at this point in time. Fortunately it was just some woolease so nothing to be heartbroken over. And the hank of jitterbug that he turned into a birdsnest, well that I wound into a centerpull ball with the help of my favorite knit shop owner Deb, who sold me the hank in the first place. It wasn't all that bad, just a little scary looking. Still had the yarn ties in a couple of places so all he did was muss it up a bit.

He still like stalking my yarn. He will jump up on the couch near me, trill a little and do that walking-on-me-because-i-love-you side rub, then sit down and look at my yarn, crouch, creep forward (he thinks he's invisible if he moves slow enough, it's cute), and then pounce. Ahem, I mean TRY to pounce. I touch his nose before that point so he looks at me, then he gets scruffed off the couch. After another 1-2 times of this he realizes that yes I CAN see him and no he will not be able to attack my yarn, so he curls up next to me to sleep.

I love my kitty, I'm the only one he talks to. Shelby has fallen down on her big sisterly duties such as teaching him a proper meow. Frankie, who was quite silent for the first week he was home, has not gotten out a full meow in all the time I've known him, and they're all quite high-pitched and baby kitteny. He gets out the "meee!" part and skips the "ow". Sometimes he prefaces the meeee with a little trill. It's adorable. I am besotted.

I am slightly less besotted in the mornings when my wake up alarm goes off because he takes that noise as license to walk all over me. Let me rephrase that, he takes that noise as license to walk all over the parts of me that he can see, which given that this is the cold season, is my neck and face. He will trill, walk onto my neck, rub my face while I'm trying to inhale, step off on the other side, then go back to the original side, sometimes taking a detour up to my forehead and back before rubbing on my face again. He is the best alarm clock ever.

As cats go, I think he must be on his second life, and in his first life he was a dog. He is so puppy like; friendly and outgoing with strangers, will play for hours, wants to be right next to you where ever you are, will flop down to sleep near you if you're not moving, greets me at the front door when I get home with a running trill-meeee hello...

I think it's time to stop waxing passionate about my kitten now and get ready for knitting at panera. yay. =)

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