Glenwood Needs a Birthday

By Dr. Ryan's best estimates and Glenwood's teeth at the time, she was about four months old when I found her October 1.  That means her birthday is in June.  While June 1 is the obvious choice, maybe June 21 would be nice for her ....  Not sure, but if anyone wants to weigh in, please do ...

Glenwood seems healthy.  The raspy breathing is all but gone, unless she's snoring.  She does make the horrible noises old men make when they're choking, however.  It's startling to hear from this little body, and seems to be related to eating.  I wonder whether some food goes down the wrong pipe (my mother's technical language) and she's trying to exhale it.  She clearly does not like to throw up, unlike most cats, and I attribute that to her delicate feminine nature.

At almost a year old, Glenwood is the sweetest, funniest, softest, most personable kitten.  She's usually passed out between my keyboard and monitor, blocking access to certain keys.  That's between bouts of chasing the cursor, which has my screen covered with pawprints.  Never a dull moment.

A Priority Expenditure

I was in Target, where emerging with the strangest assortment of items is the norm (mascara, eggs, and a chair, for example), resisting 928 impulse purchases, when I saw this cat toy.  I could've resisted this too, except that it sings.  I liked walking through the store with a singing basket.

It's a huge hit with Glenwood.  One night she was flying across the doorway of the kitchen, every time she'd throw it up and down the hall to recapture.  She was airborne, so no way I'll be getting a focused picture.  (And it's a good thing the singing is sweet, because it's constant.  I put the bird in a drawer when I go to sleep.)

Timmy's not interested.  He's too grown up for such antics.  And, according to his previous mother (in a comment to my last post), the fridge is a re-habit, not a new habit.

She's Jewish!

Everyone knows a Jewish mother has Jewish offspring, but who knew it extended to a rescue kitten (especially one with the WASP-y name of Glenwood)?  But she is!  The bagel theft gave her away. The plastic bag it was in had a long tail, and she kept stepping on it as she ran from me, making for a bizarre chase.

Meanwhile, Timmy has taken to perching on top of the fridge, a new trick, and one I'd like to stop.  Yeah, right.

Cat and Mouse

She's quite the worker bee.  (I take unbelievable joy in this mousepad.)

Nighttime Antics

The evidence from last night's festivities suggests there was a hockey game, with the garlic serving as a puck.

And Back at the Ranch

So here's Timmy, just hanging out (literally) on my Van Gogh chair, when who should come along to disturb his peaceful contemplation of the floor but ... you guessed it ... Glenwood.

Paw-to-paw play-combat ensued.