Ruby joined our household exactly 7 weeks ago. She's gone from the tiny baby who cried for her mama and had to be held and soothed to sleep to a sassy 2 lb. ball of fire. She picks fights with the boys, especially Fletcher, who has adapted to Life with Ruby much better than Pete has. Like any smart female, she makes sure she gets the last word in any argument; any confrontation between her and Fletcher ends with Fletcher slinking away while Ruby gives him a parting smack with her paw as he walks by.
She has eschewed the kitten food I got for her (the VERY EXPENSIVE Science Diet kitten food I got for her) and chooses to eat the boys' food. They, in turn, eat hers.
|Ruby raiding the boys' food bowl; the boys knocking|
over the bag of kitten food and eating what falls out.
|Poor, starving Pete, having to eat kitten food....|
I can even still see the cuteness in Ruby when she climbs the Christmas tree, although I'll admit that is starting to wear thin. Instead of, "Oh, look at cute little Ruby! She's chasing her tail inside the tree!" more often, you hear, "Dammit, Ruby, GET THE HELL OUT OF THE TREE!" This is especially true because her latest M.O. for getting OUT of the Christmas tree is that she pokes her head out through a hole in the branches, climbs out as far as she can, then skis down the outside of the tree to the floor, taking any ornaments in her path with her.
But when I say I am a cat person, I would like it to be noted that I am NOT a CRAZY cat person. And I know this from the following:
I was walking in the doors at Walmart this afternoon when I got this text from my friend and co-worker, Debbie, who, coincidentally, was inside Walmart (and who happens to be the owner of Ruby's mama and is why I now have a hyperactive kitten wreaking havoc on my Christmas tree):
Let me show you a close-up of that accompanying picture.
|Photo credit to Debbie - she earned it|
Yes, friends, this woman had a kitten IN HER SHIRT at Walmart.
Debbie reported that she last saw the woman in the toy section, so I hightailed it over there, hoping to catch a glimpse myself, and I was certainly rewarded with that and more. I tracked the woman all over the store, equal parts fascinated and repulsed. I tried desperately to get another picture, but for a big woman, she was FAST. In fact, the only time I had an open shot of them, the kitten had COMPLETELY DISAPPEARED inside her shirt.
Debbie and I continued to text while I stalked the woman, and Debbie suggested I try walking up to her and asking her if I can take a picture, because the woman seemed quite proud of the fact that she had a kitten sticking out of the neck of her t-shirt, especially when the man in the photo department leaned over to pet it (let that one wash over you a minute...).
I followed the woman to the check out line, stopped, looked surprised, and said, "Oh, what a sweet baby!" at which time the woman pulled her out of the neck of her t-shirt to show me, thus ruining any chance of a photo op.
DAMMIT, AND I WAS SO CLOSE!
So Wordless Wednesday? More like Speechless Wednesday.
And be assured, no interventions shall be necessary. Ruby will stay home, in the Christmas tree, where she belongs.