We have been watching the sofa intently for the last few hours, with breaks to go jiggle toys behind the couch and shake treat bags.
No, honestly, we haven't gone insane. We're fostering two wary kitties.
They were found in a port town near here, and were not socialized as tinies, and it shows. They came today from a foster home where they learned to trust enough to jump up in people's laps and be petted, but tonight is a whole new ballgame and they've been using the underside of the couch as homebase. Now that things have quieted down (I sent the kids to bed - of course, they're back down here now, but it's calm at least) they've been weaving in and out around the floor and taking tiny bites of food. In the last half an hour they've progressed to jumping on the couch and checking out the windowsill, and I'm sure they'll be in the litterbox tonight.
Lucy is decidedly unimpressed but we expected there would be a few days of outraged shrieking before the order of things is settled.
They were named for clouds when they came. The girl is white with a grey smudge on top of her head, and her brother is coal black with flashy gold eyes.
I say we're fostering (it's something I believe in whole-heartedly) but I've got a sneaking suspicion that while I went over and over the concept with Rosey and Cass until they understood that these kitties were temporary, I was having the conversation with the wrong person.
Yep. Bear might be a problem. He's been the one most actively gathering them up and ooh-ing and aah-ing over how little they are, how sweet, how their purrs are so loud....
('Course, now I'm remembering when Lucy came to stay, and how she picked Bear out within hours of her arrival, and sealed the deal with a big rumble purr and a lick on the cheek.)
And, of course (no fool them) they've been turning their volume controls up, cuddling, playing when he tosses the toy, etc.
I'll try to get some pictures soon as they don't run when they see me coming. But the house feels good tonight, warm and full.