Relief.

Spike is better, people. Not necessarily out of the woods yet, but he's opening his eyes more, and playing more. I don't feel like I should be rushing him to the vet today. I'm just going to keep watching for some signs of improvement, and take him back to the vet on Saturday for a follow up.

In other cat news, they are getting so BIG. It's hard to see, being with them every day, but they are getting heavier, and whereas I could easily hold them with one hand when we first got them, it's becoming a little trickier to do so. It's kind of sad, how fast they grow, but all kittens turn into cats, so this isn't exactly unexpected.

I've also introduced the spray bottle. I hate doing it, but I want to curb some of the scratching on furniture stuff, and also the chewing on cords stuff. Jack won't be the bad guy and do it. He says to me "They were climbing on the chair, and I know I should have squirted them, but I just didn't, I couldn't." Great. Is this my future? Always being bad cop! Oh well. I also feed them, and they know it.

They have also figured out how to get into the adjoining room downstairs. Granted, we don't have it blocked off well (movie poster about 3 ft tall across the doorway), but it was working. We had them fooled. Until Jack caught Shelby climbing from the tv stand, to the speaker, and over the poster. He moved the speaker, but that didn't fool them. I'm not sure how they're knocking it over, but they are. Oh well. They're going to figure it out sometime. I'm not too worried about what's back there, and kittens can survive much worse, I'm sure.

Here is Shelby, sunning on the bar: