introducing...

This post, I promised you, would be to introduce you properly to the cats.

So without further ado...

Meet Agatha!

With her sumptuous coat, delicate step and cautious doe eyes, you might not expect her capable of spitting quite the amount of venom that she does.

She hisses.  She snarls.  She growls.  I swear, she even roars.

And she clobbers. Oh, yes. Get too close with the food bowl and she's dished out a proper good clip round the proverbial ear (and actual hand) before you know what's hit you (but never yet with her claws out, the big softy). She's a protective one, this, and there's a strong air of oh-such-vulnerability about her. She's doing a great job.

Meet Ginger!

This little poppet was the first (and, so far, only) to open her eyes.  I say 'her', but of course, I don't know she's a girl. We don't know the sexes of any of them as we haven't dared get close enough to touch them (put your smell on them, and mum might disown them, right?). But I digress.

She's quite a sharp cookie as one-week old kittens go, and she's a very pale, pretty ginger colour, hence the name.

Also, in Portuguese, Ginja (d'Obidos) (pronounced (more or less) the same), is a delicious, sweet, cherry liqueur (well, it's not actually made from cherries, but a fruit that's very similar). Reckon she's sweet as a cherry! ;)

Meet Fred!

He's often found 'dancing' with Ginger, which I don't particularly envy her now his claws are out.

Whereas the whole of his body is black, the tip of his tail - just the very tip, mind - is white. Remind you of anyone's cane? Born half-way up the steps to our front door, Wombling's man points out, he truly is "O'Stair". (Get it? Boom boom!)

Meet No-Name Fluffball!

Notable for his big, fat tummy and avant-garde feeding technique (both arms splayed out in front like he's doing the YMCA dance), our grey and white little cutie is still to be named.

I should 'fess up at this point and admit that I dove right in and named the others myself without giving my partner so much as a look in. Which isn't really very fair. I had to draw the line of my tyranny somewhere, though, so I left this little fella for him to christen.

And yet no name has been forthcoming.

  

I reckon we might need your help, wombling readers!

This week's poll is to find a name for the little mite. I'll leave a few suggestions, just to start things off, but please, write your own ideas in the comments box and I'll add them to the mix.

Here's a clip to inspire you.  Yes, I know, he's just like any dopey newborn kitten, but he needs you! You can't leave him nameless forever!

Finally, who could forget... Cheeky Charlie!

The neighbours all scowl when he's around and say he's a bad lot. He's covered in scars, but unlikely deserves your sympathy; I've lost count of the number of fights I've seen him embroiled in, and he usually looks very much the aggressor. In fact, I used to call him Big Bully before my better half shamed me and pointed out that "he just doesn't know what love is". 

And it's surely true, for he flinches if you move your hand quickly, convinced a thwack is coming his way :(

He has a good heart.

Indeed, on more than one occasion in the past, he's called Twinkle Toes (our barrio is pretty much riddled with cats, you can't get an introduction to them all!) over to share barbecue left-overs with him, and he's recently been hesitant to eat until he knows that Agatha is also being provided for.

Here's a picture of him standing guard (at a respectful distance) in front of the new (yes, there's a story there, too - later!) nest. What are the chances that he might be responsible for the brood, d'ya rec? (note the white tip to his tail..!)

Right, formalities out of the way, it's time for you to register your vote in the poll...



(this post was brought to you with apologies for the poor quality footage and a note that kitten names may be subject to change upon accurate sexing)