choking back tears

Today we say good-bye to the kittens. You're sad you didn't come by to see them, aren't you?

A relative of a friend is organizing a fund raiser carnival at an elementary school in Salt Lake, and she wants to have the kittens there, all dressed up with little bows, as prizes in a raffle. A raffle? I’m letting my kitties go in a raffle? Yes, yes I am. So many things would be better than a life in my sister’s laundry room, and I’m optimistic that the only people who will participate in the raffle will actually want a kitten. That the people will take a kitten home, give it lots of attention, play Pounce On My Hand And Bite Me with the kitten, and just love it.

Although frustrating at times, (George, why must you poop on the carpet? Must you meow that loud in my face all the time? Must you always be petted if someone else is being petted? Melanie, I know you love me, but please remove your claws of death from my wrist. Pierre, are you a little crazy in the head, or do you jump at my legs, realize they are my legs, bound away in terror, and then run at me again as a little game called Psycho Cat? The Other One, you are huge! Are you eating all the food and not sharing?) they are so cute when they calm down and just want to sleep in a heap on our laps, or shoulders, or feet, or wherever we will let them stay. Too cute. I will miss the little terrors. From now on I’ll have to count on Somebody to purr when I scratch him under the neck. We’ll see how that goes.

Farewell, little friends. We loved you the best way we knew how.