Then earlier today I posted the following on Twitter:
“Interesting. Kit will run to the door when the UPS man parks at the bottom of our driveway, but not when the postman does.”

Because I watched the postman pull up precisely where the UPS truck parked, and she watched the postman, but never got down from her perch in the window.

The, a little later, there was a knock on the door.

The UPS man had a package addressed to Kit. (?!)

Yup. Treats for Kit.

Gift from Eric. Gift message: Miao.

So did she like them?

Yes. Yes she did like them. In fact, she already knocked the container on the floor in hopes of getting more.

The only unfortunate thing is it was the late afternoon UPS guy who does not park in front of our house, so Kit was caught all unawares at his arrival.

There was a whole lotta crinkling going on.

“In the flowers? You think I was in the flowers? Why would you think that?”

Someone doesn’t want me to check my e-mail before leaving for work.

Just a note: We do, in fact, have heat in the house. Not that you could tell by the way those two are cuddled up together.

Or the way Kit is currently, pitifully, leaning against my legs, as if attempting to warm her poor, cold self against any heat source she can find.

What? WHAT?!

Don’t tell him that bookcase gives him a double chin.

“What? Me? I wouldn’t attack the Christmas tree! No way!”

“Pay no mind to the furry gift under the tree.”

Yes, Kit really is that much smaller than Kat.

Now let’s let’s go back a couple decades…

On my 4th birthday, I had been playing outside when I appeared at the door holding a gray cat, and saying, “Look! I got cat for my birthday!”

Despite my parent’s best efforts, no on in the neighborhood would claim him, so Smokey came to live with us. They got him fixed and all his shots and he joined the family, consisting of me, my parents, and Ari the dachshund.

One of the first things Smokey did was claw the kitchen chairs. So was taken to the vet to get declawed. (I think my parents were also concerned that he might scratch me.)

Unfortunately, one night–in the middle of the night of course, when everyone was sound asleep–there was a commotion in the basement. A very loud commotion. A crashing and crunching and rattling and rolling commotion.

My parents rushed downstairs to discover that Smokey had used his back claws to shred a 50 lb bag of dog kibble, which then cascaded down the wooden basement stairs.

Smokey quickly went to live somewhere else.

Thus, I wasn’t sure if it was auspicious or not when we got Kat on my birthday. Yet despite his really bad attitude (which to be honest, is not all entirely his fault), I’ve enjoyed having him around, and hope he stays healthy so we can keep him around for awhile longer.

Kat has shoved himself into the corner, so it looks like we’ve placed him in time out.

Meanwhile, I’m sure Kit will be wondering around the house, lost.

Hopefully, he’ll be far less cranky afterward.

ADDENDUM the First:
Kat woke up from the anesthesia fine; we’ll see about the cranky when we pick him up.

ADDENDUM the Second:
If you’re wondering why there are no pictures this week, it’s because I’m still ensconced in the basement, and my cameras are upstairs.

Apparently it IS Kat’s window seat, and Kit isn’t really wanted.

I can’t decide if she looks extremely lazy, or slightly dead.

Help! Help! I’m being repressed!