First is Alexander. He arrived as a group of 8 that someone dropped off on the road in front of the house. He was quite the charmer, even as a small kitten, and he got to stay. Wish I could have kept all 8, but the others had to go to other homes. He now weighs almost 18 pounds. Kind of like picking up a cinder block.
Next is Ammimal. He arrived here as a young cat, probably under a year old, and lived in the yard for about six months before we could get close enough to really make friends. He hung around and seemed to want to get closer, but he was, and still is, terribly shy. Makes you wonder what he ran away from. Glad he's here now. Another of the 'boys' and very silly when he plays.
Fanny is one of the sisters. We rescued them from the cat shelter the last day that it was open. She and her sister Maude, pictured next, are lucky if they weigh in at 5 pounds apiece. Tiny little ladies, bur don't let their size fool you. Fanny has a vocabulary like a drunken sailor. She is in charge and the boys do as she says. Size isn't everything
And Maude, the other of the sisters. She loves being on the enclosed porch. She is attached to me and Fanny is attached to Hank. Funny how kitties pick their people Occasionally they will acknowledge their other 'parent', but not often. She especially likes sitting in the wagon that was Hanks when he was a little kid.
Muffin, or Mister Muffin as he prefers to be called, arrived as an adult. Just came up to the door and expected to be let in. He's been here ever since and has never shown any inclination to go back out the door. All of our kitties are inside only cats. Too many dangers out there between coyotes and crazy neighbors with guns who like to shoot at pets. Sad. I used to love gardening with them. Oh, the stories I could tell. Another kitty who has a story to tell, and probably not a happy one, from before he found and adopted us.
Seigfried is the closest thing we have to a dog. He runs like a dog, used to almost bark when he was little and just doesn't act very cat-like. The kitties have told us that no dogs are allowed in this house, so we will have to make due with Siggy. He is my cat, plain and simple. I seem to attract the misfits. Not sure what that means or if I even want to contemplate what it might mean. Another one who just wandered into the yard, though I expect most don't actually wander from anywhere, given that we're not exactly near anywhere. Always was funny how strays seem to show up at the end of semesters.
Spook is our feral cat. He mother, Ms. Kitty, appeared at our door when she was pregnant. She lived in the root cellar with her kittens Petunia and Spook. Ms. Kitty and Petunia are long gone. Spook is our oldest cat right now, almost 13. It took at least 6 or 7 years before I could even pet her without risking needing bandages for my fingers. She has been living in my sewing room and studio since she was pretty small, after her mother died. Another of the odd ones, so of course she is all mine. She runs under the furniture if anyone else appears in her kingdom. A sweet, tiny lady cat.
Last, but not least, is Thomas. He is the baby, though he is now 5. He will tell you he is still the baby and should be spoiled as such. He arrived as a very tiny kitten, just walking down the road all by himself very early in the morning. Hank was out, as is his habit, almost before the sun is up. Barely awake, I was suddenly aware of a tiny kitten who was looking me right in the eye. He is very frustrated with the older kitties since they don't have nearly the energy that he does. He has been known to wake the big guys up so that they can run quickly from one end of the house to the other.
So, that's the family. Back to plants tomorrow.