Tallulah and Hubert sit side by side, washing their faces in tandem.

Tallulah had been able to jump up on the cedar chest to escape Hubert;
as of yesterday, he can jump up there all by himself.  So much for her
peaceful naps, as well as for the plant and bowl of potpourri formerly
on the chest, which Tallulah left alone but Hubert will not.

Climbing the ficus tree in the living room has become a leading cause
of wet kittens.  Hubert can't figure out where the sudden stream of
water comes from; Tallulah's seen the water gun, but she's not
telling.  I swear, though, I think he's climbing the tree *more*
trying to figure out what's happening.

Hubert has at least doubled in size since he got here.  He's getting
to look like a real little kittyman already, at 35 days.  He still has
that full-throttle kitten pounce though, with front legs wide open and
little spotted chest thrust out.  Hee hee.

Tallulah very definitely has a mind of her own.  We had to switch to a
worm medication that you mix with food, as she would *not* open her
mouth for her meds.  NOT.  And she is *very* strong.

Tallulah had some time ago ripped a hole in the screen door to come
and go as she sees fit (sigh); since Hubert has gotten so active and
so fast-moving, and since Tallulah will stand just outside the door
and *call* him to come outside so she can teach him all about the
great outdoors, we've had to start closing the door at all times.
This afternoon, I'd taken her outside and she decided she was ready to
go back in.  I told her to wait just a second while I got the things
out of the dryer to take inside.  When I came out of the laundry room,
she'd squeezed through that hole and had squashed herself between the
screen and the door.  Silly cat.

Tallulah seems at times anxious about getting in trouble, and about
Hubert getting in trouble.  If I come around the corner and she's
someplace new, not her usual spots, she scurries off looking worried.
When she and Hubert discovered the fun of jumping in and out of the
laundry basket, she had to be reassured each time she was "caught"
doing it for several days, before she accepted that it was okay.
There have been many instances like this; she does explore but she's
hesitant and quick to run away when she sees us watching.  I know
she's not afraid of *us* - she's quite secure with us, as far as I can
tell.  And she's awfully timid for a cat who's lived outside; she
likes me to go with her, and she'll wait in the carport for me to
follow before she'll go on out in the yard.  And she's very
sweet-natured and trusting of humans; she wouldn't let us give her
meds, but she'll let us pick her up and carry her anywhere.  And the
very second time she'd appeared, she'd wanted to come inside.  I am
wondering if perhaps she had a home at one time, just not a good one.
Maybe she was dumped?  Maybe because she was pregnant?  That would
account for her insecurity, and though it makes me sick to think of
someone doing such a thing to such a sweet and trusting little girl, I
am also well aware that it's *their* loss; not mine, not hers.

Hubert, on the other hand, is absolutely fearless.  He climbs, he
leaps, he pounces, he sprints.  All the furniture is pulled away from
curtains, shelves, anything climbable.  We already need a new
slipcover for the couch, as this one has become a solid mass of teeny
claw pulls.  <g>  There is nothing breakable to be seen anywhere.  And
I've found myself eyeing the ceiling fan suspiciously, wondering
whether he can reach it.

I have been remiss in taking pics just lately; work, family stuff, and
jury duty (ick) have taken up an unconscionable amount of time for the
past couple of weeks.  I don't want to miss Hubert's growing, though,
so I'm just going to have to find the time to take pics, and then I'll
post some.  I swear.  :-)

------
Krista