I have a problem. Okay 99 and kittens are one.
Okay, five problems.
Well, more than that.
But specifically, five kittens that present a problem.
How could kittens ever present a problem for me when they are all things rainbow and sweetness and light and love that is right in the world besides babies and martinis and sunshine and puppies and butterflies and champagne?
They are the most adorable, personality-filled, hilarious, healthy, energetic little guys ever… And I don’t want to let them go.
I’ve managed to delude myself into thinking keeping two of the kittens is reasonable when it’s clearly not. Somehow, parting with three, as opposed to all five of them seems feasible to get over in an acceptable period of time. Otherwise, I fear there might be some serious post-partum-kitten distress disorder.
That would look like equal parts sadness:
A sad, angry, crazy, drunk Tina is not something the world ever needs to be introduced to.
Today, I’m going to share why these kittens are so flippin’ awesome.
Partly because it will help in the grieving (yes, I said grieving) process that I’ve already embarked upon… Partly in hopes it might inspire a new parent who I can then secure visitation rights with.
By the by, if you’re considering adopting, my love nugget has defined terms of custody as inclusive of twitter feeds and facebook pages, which I think is a bit much. We’ll see.
Mind you, they were born into a fiasco: https://tinawatkins.wordpress.com/2011/08/02/kitten-scavenger-hunt/
Six or so weeks after that, we lost their adorable mother Little Scruffy on the family camping trip, which was more than mildly depressing. And meant we had to wean them onto solid foods. And by wean I don’t mean gradually introduce, I mean immediately shift them to meat baby foods.
Which might have been easier if they didn’t love the stuff. Instead, they were very much like a team of rabid kitten crackheads with talons and sharp teeth going after the hard stuff.
They slammed their faces into it, nearly suffocating themselves, and fought like fiercely wronged four year old kindergarten girls in a slap-boxing match.
I never would have thought I’d witness a kitten pimp-slap, sucker-punch, or clothesline another kitten so intentionally before. We quickly decided to spoon-feed them instead, which was all at once way over the top, adorable and challenging.
That said, these, are the profiles of the five cutest kittens I’ve ever seen.
So named because he has a black patch over his eye (and a perfect one on his hind paw.) Otherwise a beautiful calico, he is the trailblazer of the group. The first to open his eyes, walk, run, fight, eat, purr. Also the first to begin taking flying leaps four times his body height off the couch that used to be in their room. Definitely the fearless leader of the pack, but also very sweet, as opposed to the Conans, as I’ll explain. He never resists when picked up, and quickly begins to purr when petted. When eating, he would calmly lick the spoon and didn’t need the Hannibal Lecter-style restraints called for with some of the others.
All grey from head to toe, Bubba is certainly a striking kitten. But we’ve always been a tad concerned: He was last at everything and began as the fattest of the bunch. He’s grown into a rather lanky, awkward fella. More greyhound than grey kitten. For a while we were convinced he might be blind or anosmic. Then we realized, much like a really nonchalant, fat, half-drunk trucker he just wasn’t pressed. So we named him Bubba. He purrs on sight.
Mahatma the Mountainclimber:
The other calico of the group, he was the most peaceful of all. Never struggled when picked up, sat calmly when fed, never ran or fought or chased other kittens. If you get him anywhere near your face he will ever so gently and tear-jerking hallmark-card cutely try to lick your nose. He loves to climb things but doesn’t discern between appropriate and inappropriate climbing material. A dress, jeans, bare skin or cage all get the leap, sink your claws in and cling for dear life from him.
The last two are the biggest, and look very similar with grey and white stripes. When feeding, they went absolutely psycho-crazy, forcing us to wrap all but their heads in towels as a restraint to avoid them clawing and smacking the food everywhere but into their mouths. They are also the most effective bullies of the bunch. Picky eaters, both have perfected the art of shoving and holding other kitten’s faces in the ground while they alone eat from the bowl peacefully. We decided to name them Conan the Barbarian and Conan the Destroyer.
Conan the Barbarian:
This is the fattest of the bunch by far. As much as he bullies the other kittens, he is an absolute ball of cuddly love whenever you pick him up.
Arguably one of the cutest of all the kittens, Conan the Destroyer just loves trouble. He fights other kittens constantly, and loves play-attacking you as well. He dominates the second food bowl. Destroyer seemed fitting.
There you have it. The cutest kittens of all time. They love playing with corks, paper, earrings, and ribbons. They used to love playing with a rather noisy ball with a bell in it that I’ll be confiscating, since kitten soccer tournaments run from 4am to 7:30am.
I love them and have decided Pirate and Conan the Barbarian will stay with me. But I will miss them all. Some body please, please, take Conan the Destroyer, Mahatma, and Bubba.