The Freak Brothers, Sextus and Quint, now have the run of the house. Sarah’s room will eventually recover, I hope. They had been pulling things off the way, tossing push pins around the floor, emptying boxes (!) and drawers…. busy boys.
Sextus is difficult to photograph. He’s less shy than he originally was – sometimes I can even pat him now, and he even comes up to me on his own.
There is Sextus with his crossed eyes, and here are his whiskers.
And Quint. Quint is My Guy.
And these are his claws.
The claws are important, because he spent his kittenhood being socialized by the nice ladies at the animal shelter, who would sit on a chair with him, and he would climb up and play scarf. So that’s what he does. He climbs up on my lap and wants to sleep right up under my chin. Except that he gets all excited and turns around, and slips… So I have a constant trail of tiny, tiny scratches. But he LUBS me.
These, however, are enough.
I don’t care how cute it is, it’s not coming home with us.