Introducing the Kits

Some time around right-about-now, my kits have a birthday. Four years ago, Luke and Leia were born, then given to Humane Society for Companion Animals where I found them 9 weeks later. Here they are, hanging out at my parents' house. (Luke is in front of Leia.)


Luke insists on drinking his water out of the kitchen sink faucet, despite the fountain water dish my mother bought for him. (I think I've seen him use it once.) When he wants my attention he meows and rolls over on to his back, belly exposed. He's at his most precious when, desiring pets, he lets me pick him up and cuddle him on my lap. Those rare times, I barely breathe, and I don't move.


Leia demands to be an outdoor cat. I think she and Luke are indoor cats. This is a battle of wills. Leia is not satisfied by sniffing life through open windows, and while the deck is a nice compromise, it doesn't soothe her wild soul. She goes into the (closed) garage to roll on the concrete and conquers the car, but when that is not enough, she sits by the front door and mews pitifully. She stretches to the max in an attempt to open the door. I let her and Luke out sometimes to roll on the concrete and nibble grass. Leia is most endearing sleeping with her chin on my head and paw over my nose at night.

People who know me are probably surprised I waited two days to brag about the cats. My sister-in-law questions the intelligence of some animals. All I can say is that my kits have managed to train me well. And now, I have to go home to them. And let them outside for a birthday treat.