My apartment is now home to a mother cat (tentatively named Ginger Rogers) and her two crazy kittens whom we have named Loki and Thor. We don’t know their sexes yet but my kittens don’t subscribe to conventions like gender roles so it’s a moot point; they’re trailblazers in borderline gender identities in the feline community.
Ginger Rogers seems very displeased about the arrangement and Loki and Thor seem confused but content. On the way home from the shelter, all three went into a cardboard carrier. Ginge was not happy about this and shoved herself into a corner of the box, asking herself how she had gotten here. Knocked up at only one year old, the father not even in the picture… what was she doing with her life? But the kittens were quite the opposite: trampling all over each other in a brave attempt to discover the marvels of this cardboard wonderland.
L and T are completely unaware of their mother’s disdain for their existence as evidenced by their use of her body as a trampoline and a launching pad. That’s their main form of exercise besides clawing their way up my body via my clothes, using their claws as tiny, adorable grappling hooks.
Below are grainy, fuzzy photos of Loki, Thor, and Ginger Rogers. Sorry about the horrible quality. They were taken at night and the kittens would not stay still and pose even when I prompted them with encouraging comments, “Show me some personality, Loki! You’re a Norse god for Pete’s sake, SELL IT TO ME!!!”
Tomorrow, expect high quality photos!