I finally got some decent photos of the kittens, almost four months after adopting them in January. They're both almost double the size they were then, and it's been so very fun and interesting to watch their personalities and habits develop. If reading about kitteh shenanigans isn't your thing, you'll wanna skip this post.
Alec was the one that I expected to be mellow and dignified. He looks that way still, but is a devilish little bastard when it comes to things like jumping on countertops and climbing my bookshelves. I come home from work and find knick-knacks and books from a shelf five feet off the ground scattered all over the living room. This gives me paranoid visions of walking in and finding the bookshelf tipped over on the floor and the little brat-cat squashed underneath it. But he's got the most awesome purr and sleeps most of the night sprawled alongside my shins, so I'd be very sorry to see him squished.
Little Olive is the one that I expected to be trouble, but she's actually been fairly well-behaved, despite her liveliness. She doesn't have the boy's jumping ability, though she's beginning to make up for that by learning how to pry open cabinet doors in the kitchen. She also makes the sweetest little chirping noises when she wants attention.
At this point, they're not exactly buddies, but there's definitely a sibling dynamic. They don't curl up and sleep together, but they'll sit haunch-to-haunch at the glass storm door, watching the world go by. And every so often, one will begin grooming the other, licking its head and ears. After a minute or two, I'll see the one doing the grooming stretch its mouth open wide and suddenly latch around the other's neck like some camp vampire going after its prey. This is the cue for a round of wrestling that would put the WWF crew to shame.
Their favorite playground is the bathtub. He has a thing for my rubber ducky (gag-gift from a co-worker, and it's fun in a kitschy way), and she loves to jump in and chase her own tail, banging and thumping against the walls of the tub.
I'm constantly amazed at how attached I've become to these two little monsters (much more so than I think I ever was to the Goombah, I'm a bit ashamed to admit). Perhaps it's because there's two of them, perhaps it's because they were kittens when I adopted them. I don't know the reason, but I'm smitten, and they're spoiled rotten because of it.
Little shits had better appreciate just how good they've got it...