When in the pursuit of something daily that is happy, joyful and for no reason other than enjoyment, you just can’t go wrong with kittens, right?

Forget the late unpleasantness with the third member of the litter of kittens … that was just an accident. I think. Or nature. Maybe.

OK, confession time here … I picked the loveseat up many days ago and put it back down causing a kitten to squeak. I immediately picked it back up and they all squirmed around so I thought they were all OK. Maybe not.

So I decided to play a lot with the little guys. One mostly white and fuzzy with black ears and a black tail … named after … well read the other post. And the larger, more marked one … also long haired with beautiful facial markings and a striking resemblance to Lizzie, her mom. So I call them John and Joy. And in truth I think John is a Johnna …

 

So, after taking a few cute kitten pictures (some seen here) I got down on the floor to play with the adorable fuzzy creatures. No small feat at my advanced age … ho ho ho.

Immediately, mom started to make a strange worried sound … almost like chirping … and the little guys scattered … finding refuge under the dishwasher.

At this point it might be helpful to know that until a week ago, there was another cat in residence here … with her five, count them, five kittens. A week ago I scooped them all up and took them to parts unkown … that is, unknown to the remaining cat and kittens.

She noticed.

Lizzie has been more than a little nervous since then and the demise of kitten number three … with good reason.

But back to the joyful fun with said kittens. Who were now cowering under the dishwasher and counter with mom nervously prancing back and forth. “No, no, you don’t understand … I just want to PLAY with them” I pleaded.

No kittens.

At this point I resorted to playing dirty. Since the kittens scatter at the sound of paper towels ripping and doors closing … I started the dishwasher. Hey, there was a load ready to go … (bad holly, bad bad holly).

Out shot Joy making a mad dash to the living room. No sign of John who bravely battled the evil dishwasher … or just cowered in fear … I don’t know which. But he (she?) came out a few moments later and followed the other two into the next room.

So tonight I made one more try at it. With much more success. Although mom was more than a bit nervous, I got to sit and play and enjoy small kittens running and jumping and rolling all over each other and mom.

They are now, even as we speak, er, type running back and forth and getting tangled in the rolled up hammock in the corner of the room. Too funny. Mom, who is little more than a kitten herself is joining in the fun as well.

It warms my heart. It is true … in a variation on an old Peanuts line … Happiness is a warm kitten.