The first three babies

It occurs to me that before this baby comes, and I start posting picture after picture of the adorableness of the little thing, I really should give our cats some love. I'm worrying often about how bringing home the baby will affect them, and how they will become second-class citizens. They have been our babies for years, and they will always be my special babies. But they won't be as special as this baby, and that makes me sad. So, before it's too late, I will blog the kitties, while they still rule the roost.


Cole
This is #1. He comes first because he's in charge. He's not really oldest, since two of them are technically twins, but he just seems oldest. He's certainly the crabbiest. And I'm not ashamed to say it: he's my favorite. We have a great mutual respect for each other. If I'm not in the mood to be messed with, I scowl at him, and he stays away. If he's not in the mood to be messed with, he plants himself firmly at my feet, scowling at me, and yelling (really, how does a cat yell a meow?? But he does..) if I make eye contact. He's my "trusty grey cat," always there when I wake up, when I'm cooking, when I'm on the toilet, when I'm reading or crying or blogging. He sits and watches me intently, and I love him.

Jameson
This is #2. He's the classic middle child. I feel bad that I'm not more doting towards him, but he's just so... aloof. He's very hot-cold. For several days, he's passionate. He can't get enough of you, and he cuddles on the couch, and he's everywhere you are. And then for a few days, he is nowhere to be found, and he doesn't want to be talked to or touched in any way. But when he's loving, he is loving. He's the closest thing we have to a lap cat, but unfortunately, it's only Mike's lap he goes for. And only if he's in a good mood. But it has been happening more and more often, so I think he knows something's up. He has to work hard to get on our good sides before the real baby comes home. I do love Jameson very much, and the two times that I really truly thought we lost him (he's an escape artist, by the way,) for more than a week, I was inconsolable. And he's the most handsome cat we have. I think.


Benny
And this is the little guy, #3. He's the youngest, the obvious misfit. This is Mike's cat, literally and figuratively. Mike picked him out at the Humane Society, and I thought he was crazy! This freakish little kitten was trying everything in his power to get away from us and hide under anything, but damn, he was cute. He still is. He is a very handsome cat, but I think he's just a man's cat. I prefer my floofy grey babies. And now that Benny's all grown up, he knows which side of the bread his is buttered on, or however the hell that expression goes, and he is his Daddy's cat. He runs into the room when Mike comes home, head butts his legs, and then runs away. But don't pick him up! Benny is a schizo-cat. (And I mean that in the most respectful way possible.) He's scared of his own shadow. He flinches at every. little. thing. You could drop a paperclip and he'd jump a couple inches off the ground. When he's eating, just don't make any sudden movements. So when you pick him up to give him a hello kiss, he reacts as if you're trying to jam his head into a blender. We're working on it. But he is one charming little guy. As long as you're sitting in the living room, he is all over you. He licks your head clean for you! When I'm getting ready in the morning, sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing my hair, he runs up behind me, stands both front paws on my shoulders, and nuzzles my neck. It's a sweet start to the morning. And then he hears the coffee pot downstairs beep and he bolts under the bed because LOOK OUT! WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!! Sweet cat.

Anyhow, those are my babies. So far. I already jokingly call the real baby #4. And I hope that I always love the kitties as much as I do now. My sister reports that since she had her son, she hates her cats. She used to love them, and they were her everything, but now they are just stinky, hairy pains in the ass.


Okay, one bonus picture. I absolutely adore these pictures of the grey cats. They really are twins, from the same litter (they were the last two left in the humane society cage that day, and I didn't have it in me to break them up. Thank God there weren't 4 or 5 left that day!!) But it's just so precious how they act like twins! Very, very often, where you find one grey cat, you find two grey cats. And they are often posed alike, and they're just too cute for words, don't you think? I have pictures of them lounging on stairs, sprawled out identically on two adjacent steps, and curled up on the bed, identically resting their little heads to the side.

And the moral of the story is: I'm in big trouble if I'm this big a sucker for the real baby.