Following last week’s pics of The First Snuggle, here’s the girls in a present-day moment of cuddling up together. Or rather, Bella cuddling up to Pollywog to get her ears licked – it’s never the other way around. They seem to have outgrown lying on each other as they’ve grown out of their kittenhoods – I have a ton of “OMG LOOK AT THE KITTIES BEING SO CUTE MAKING PILLOWS OUT OF THEMSELVES” pics from Bella’s first year – but from time to time I’ll catch Bella throwing herself on Pollywog for some grooming. Which Pollywog, as always, administers with a silent tsk-tsk, c’mere, you filthball.

So this week’s pics continue the dip into the past with the girls getting to know each other. They did not take to each other right away – more like, Pollywog REALLY didn’t take to Bella at all, and Bella, having just been fostered with some huge fluffy cats, was all, “Oh, whatever.”

After some initial hostilities, I woke up one morning and found them hanging out in the cat carrier together. Apparently heating pads draw forth waves of forgiveness along with a comfy place to park one’s ‘tocks.

Check out Miss Anime back there, with her serene kitty smile ready to be plastered onto the side of a J-pop handbag. As if the hissing and intense suspicion never happened. Hmmmm, maybe a little sister would have its benefits.

Like having someone else handle one half of the complaining.

It’s snowing out, I feel like crap, let’s look at some kittens today!
Here’s the girls when they were mere shrimps of impending cathood.

For those who don’t know the story, Bella was found in a box of kittens abandoned at a central California rest stop. A guy walking his dog picked them up and drove them to a rescue in San Francisco, feeding them dog food along the way so at least they’d have something to munch on. She was three weeks old when we got her – a feline paramecium, just tiny – and she was an infected, filthy little creature. How could we say no? Here she is a week or so later, well on the road to recovery. Don’t be fooled by the innocent face. She does this right before the fangs chomp down.

Pollywog has pretty much been a vamp since infancy. She came from the SPCA, and adopting animals from shelters isn’t so much “picking out the best one” but more like “we can’t leave this one behind.” We ended up keeping the name the SPCA gave her – we tried calling her Lily for a little bit but it just didn’t stick – and according to one of novelist Judith Krantz’s characters, every beautiful woman must have a nickname to make her seem less intimidating. (It was in Mistral’s Daughter, I think.) And frogs are cute. So Pollywog she remained, and as she gets older she just gets better at making these sultry feline faces.

This week, Pollywog takes a bath in a drawerful of legwarmers. Which is the champagne of kitty courtesans everywhere.

Speaking of which, Coilhouse has posted an in-depth report on the phenomenon of Tokyo cat cafes, right down to the rules of conduct and feline “menus.” Prepare to die of cuteness.

(No Bella this week, The Golden Eyes of Trouble has decided not to grace us with her presence this afternoon.)

(I love this shot.)

Pollywog, meanwhile, shows that industrial skirts of fishnet and hanging D-ring garter things are enhanced with the weight of catloaves.

So here’s a photo of the dress (it’s the one all the way on the right). It’s one of my favorites, with braided trim around the neckline and chiffon panels that kick out from the skirt. My only complaint is, why did they put the brocade pattern sideways? Like damask, this is a pattern that’s supposed to draw your eyes downward. But, I forgave it.

Many years ago, I wore this dress to a posh San Francisco restaurant – The Stray and I were across the country from our families, and we decided to splash out on Christmas dinner since we were on our own. This was the kind of place that makes jackets mandatory for the guys, so I figured I’d go just as formal as my date, and this was a holiday and therefore deserving of dressup, yeah OK a gown! We showed up for our reservation, and the hostess was snooty. The waiter was snooty. The food was really not all that great. As we were slipping into our coats and getting ready to leave, the harpist came hurrying over. “I love your coat!” she purred, stroking the black lace on the sleeves, making noises about how much fun it would be to play the harp in them. (Picture here. It’s the duster on the right.)

So screw the stuck-up staff, and yay to the really sweet musician, from whom sartorial appreciation is a much finer compliment.

OK. On to the cats.

This is the very portrait of a bed pig. I was trying to get a pic of her wallowing around in the brocade and chiffon but all that came out was a furry blur. I think she’s enjoying these posts as much as I am.

Oh noes! An interloper! Bella has decided that one of my goth gowns is a perfect spot for an impromptu wrestling match, and thus jumps on Polly’s head.

As you can see, Miss Polly gets very upset when her sty of splendor gets disrupted. Bella left quickly after this shot to go shred sisal, and Pollywog was back to rolling around violently in purple floral brocade. And peace was restored to Kittybuttock Manor.