KARMA KARMA KARMA KARMA KARMA CHAMEEE-LEE-UN has been in the house for 3½ weeks, now. Toni, who has been in Michigan for the past week, swears up and down that the kitten has grown. Me, I’m not so sure, but I’ve had her purring on my chest every evening and held her in my hands while hauling her growling away from the adult cats’ food. That is to say: I haven’t the perspective to be able to tell. When the report comes back that she weighs three pounds, I’ll be able to wrap my head around the notion. Until then, growth is denied.
If you’ve been following along at home, you may recall that the pre-resident adult cats were at first reluctant to accept Karma into the household. She was something new and alien and potentially threatening. However, one advantage of keeping small predators with brains the size of a walnut (without the shell) as pets is that they have very little short-term memory. By the beginning of this week, Karma was no longer alien, but had been accepted as a permanent fixture in their environment.
If only people adapted so easily to change.
More recently, she has been apparently viewed as some sort of a self-actuating toy, with its own teleological programming, which makes it an interesting hunting lure. In the shot above, Karma is getting lessons in interaction and how to pretend you’re a mouse being hunted by the mighty Snow Lion from the Land of the Ice and Snow. From Loki.
Here we see another interaction, this time with Aqua. This is also an example of forced perspective, as it makes Karma appear about twice her normal size. Or maybe that’s the fur standing on end that does that. Here’s one that gives a better idea of her size — taken this morning.
Little Karma has been doing her own exploring of Casa d’Alger as well. She’s discovered a favorite toy…
And has been pushing at the boundaries of her physical limits. Here she wonders if she dares make the leap from the cat tree to the bookcase, a transition the adults are cautious about taking. (Notice that her attention has been caught by a tasty video treat. Mmmm. Captain Tight-pants. Yummm.)
Although we put her on the bed for the session with Loki (that was two weeks ago — a lifetime in kitten years), she has been able to get up on the bed on her own — a feat that has to equal something like a first-day’s traverse on Half Dome for a human being. (OK, I exaggerate. It’s only like climbing the face of a six-story building.)
But, like all cats, she’s been spending the most of her time curled up asleep. On, of course, some of the house’s prime real estate — the best location, location, locations for sleeping, like on my chest and next to me on the couch. That’s my knee she’s head-butted into there.
Embrace the squee.