Alas, I have but two hands. Now when I come home, there are three cats that want me to scritch their necks and I can only get two at a time.

Megan is recovering from the trauma of the move. She's spent most of the past month beneath the windowseat I had made from plastic shelves, hiding from Mittens and Melody and apparently not eating. Chris and I were becoming concerned as we could start to feel Megan's spine through her fur when we petted her. She'd also stopped grooming herself, which led to us butchering her behind to remove some matted fur and excrement that got stuck to her butt. Though it was pretty distressing for Chris to have to hold her down while I bathed and clipped her, I pointed out that there was no way she could possibly be comfortable with all that stuff on her.

She doesn't seem to hold it against me, probably because Chris had gotten her some canned food and I've been giving her a teaspoon of it every morning. She hasn't fattened up any, but at least she's finally eating again. And I spent some time combing through her fur, slowly working out the worst of the knots. It's obvious I'm no cat groomer, since the trim job left her hindquarters rather ugly, but she's looking more like a fluffy cat than a dirty fur boa.

Saturday as Chris and I watched Full Metal Alchemist, Megan came out to sit on his lap. Then she pushed her furry little face into my water glass and helped herself to a drink. Ever since that moment, she's decided that I'm okay and now when I walk in the door, Megan comes out of Chris' room to chat with me, while on the other side of the room Mittens and Melody come out of my room.

Which is great! Except that I only have two hands, which leaves one of our cats (I've been picking a different one each time) meowing at me most unhappily.

Alas, I have but two hands. Now when I come home, there are three cats that want me to scritch their necks and I can only get two at a time.

Megan is recovering from the trauma of the move. She's spent most of the past month beneath the windowseat I had made from plastic shelves, hiding from Mittens and Melody and apparently not eating. Chris and I were becoming concerned as we could start to feel Megan's spine through her fur when we petted her. She'd also stopped grooming herself, which led to us butchering her behind to remove some matted fur and excrement that got stuck to her butt. Though it was pretty distressing for Chris to have to hold her down while I bathed and clipped her, I pointed out that there was no way she could possibly be comfortable with all that stuff on her.

She doesn't seem to hold it against me, probably because Chris had gotten her some canned food and I've been giving her a teaspoon of it every morning. She hasn't fattened up any, but at least she's finally eating again. And I spent some time combing through her fur, slowly working out the worst of the knots. It's obvious I'm no cat groomer, since the trim job left her hindquarters rather ugly, but she's looking more like a fluffy cat than a dirty fur boa.

Saturday as Chris and I watched Full Metal Alchemist, Megan came out to sit on his lap. Then she pushed her furry little face into my water glass and helped herself to a drink. Ever since that moment, she's decided that I'm okay and now when I walk in the door, Megan comes out of Chris' room to chat with me, while on the other side of the room Mittens and Melody come out of my room.

Which is great! Except that I only have two hands, which leaves one of our cats (I've been picking a different one each time) meowing at me most unhappily.