"Go away, Lady. We don't like you."
The Mayweather Munchkins arrived just ahead of yet another thunderstorm on Saturday evening. They moved into the front foster room and directly under the chair... where they stayed... and stayed... and stayed. They ordered room service on Sunday morning, demanding that their breakfast be served under there too.
Kitten crunchies are missing from the bowl in front of the door and the litter box has been used, so they're not complete hermits. By Sunday evening, we caught glimpses of them darting around the room (only to head for cover under the safety of their chair if they detected movement outside the door). Only Ruby fails to shake them. She's been watching Kitten TV for the better part of the weekend.
We'll take the next couple of days getting to know each other. In the meantime, I'm waiting for one more kitten name to come rolling in before I formally introduce the litter. But just because you don't know their names doesn't mean you can't enjoy their faces.
"Nope. No kitten here. Just us pirates!"
"Did it work?"
"Perhaps pretending to sleep will make that Lady go away instead."
"Thinking, thinking, thinking of a good strategy to make this giant go away..."
"Unhand the kitten before the kitten messes you up!"
"Didn't work, huh?"
"It is so hard for a gorgeous kitten to convey malicious intentions."
"Sigh... She's still holding me, isn't she?"
"Let's negotiate, shall we?"
"You put the kitten down and the kitten will pretend you don't exist."
"Not buying it, huh?"
"Excuse me... Have you seen my mama?"