Y'all should be careful what you ask for...
Starting with the three outdoor kitties that WANT to be indoor kitties, and keep trying to bribe their way inside:
Puss is the blur, Boots is the one with white boots, and NotPuss is...well...NotPuss.
Oldest to youngest:
17 year old Melvin, a "walk-on" and clearly HIS cat (even though he says he hates cats)
10 year old Cricket, abandoned by her mother in our garage when she was about 5 weeks old, along with her brothers Garf & Smudgy (who have both since crossed over the rainbow bridge):
6 year old Molly the Poly(dactyl), adopted along with her brother Milo (after Garf & Smudgy died within a year of each other)
6 year old Milo the Dork, who has given us quite a scare the past few weeks. He has gained back weight and is active and alert again after a staph infection in his lymph nodes (I have no idea how or why) knocked two lbs off him and nearly killed him. The first pic is him helping to measure our new bathroom flooring. The second is him waiting for his belly rub reward, and shows off all the shaved patches from the vets.
5 year old Button, another walk-on who "blessed" us with a litter of four kittens in the woodpile. We found homes for two, the third disappeared, and we brought Button and her remaining son inside to keep them safe.
And finally, 4 year old Tab (Button's son), the youngest, baddest cat. He's 17 lbs of cattitude. He has been told he cannot sit on the kitchen counters. This is him, not SITTING on the kitchen counter...
Bonus pet: Scamper, the dachshund we got when I was three years old, who was my constant companion until I left for college. He passed away during my freshman year at the ripe old age of 16.
