My Little Girl Is Growing Up

I don't know how long I've had my little kitten. Maybe 4 or 5 weeks? I can't remember. Frankly, I can barely remember what life was like without her.

When I first met her, she was a tiny hairball, an over-sized hamster, a squeaky little munchkin. She weighed about 1 pound and seemed so very fragile that I was afraid to leave her alone.

In the short amount of time I've had her, she's transformed into a rough-and-tumble kitten. Getting into anything and everything and then some. I feel like a parent trying to train her toddler with my constant "no"s and "stop that!" and "get out of there" and "I'm gonna kill you if you destroy one more roll of toilet paper!" Her acrobatics amuse and astound me. Literally, as I'm writing this, she just jumped on top of my












armoire for the very first time. As entertaining as she is, her antics may just get her in trouble one of these days. Today, for instance, I stepped outside to get the mail and then sat down to eat my dinner. I heard rustling at the door, but didn't think anything of it, until I saw the silouette of a little cat scaling my front door window. She was trapped between the screen door and the storm door! Wow, that could have been bad. But, she survived unscathed...for the time being. How does the saying go? Curiosity killed the kitten? Well, it just may kill mine.

(As a side note, the quality of these pictures is severely lacking. I blame Ada. She never stops moving!)