My (our) beloved Digit is a wonder. A miracle. He is still very not-dead. However, he is grumpy as hell and can sometimes be an asshole (surprise!). We cuddle all night. We hold hands. He sucks on my pillow. He purrs so hard the bed shakes. But between four and six in the morning, he wakes up mad. So when that happens (every morning), I get up and carry him out to the front sun porch, him spitting and hissing the whole way. This is his spot. He has his catnip, his water, his litter box. He likes to be in this room often during the day — away from the dog/kitten hustle and bustle of the Hehu household.
I fed him out there this morning, as I always do. As he always does, he inhaled his breakfast which WAS NOT ENOUGH THANK YOU, and he started to howl. He has to be separated from the other cats while they eat because he’s on a special diet for his crystal needs (and they’re not supposed to eat his food). So every morning and evening at feeding time, there is one minute of silence and then howling for as long as I grant the other cats to eat.
This morning I heard fumbling at the door of the sun porch that leads to the living room.
Then it opened.
He is a polydactyl – a Hemingway cat. He has finally figured out how to use his thumbs. Together, he and Clara could rule the world. Luckily, they don’t hang out. Much. I am scared.
Morning Photos For You
Harriet: Too Damn Early
This is the door Digit opened. A regular doorknob, thank you. Also, when I shut the door, I didn’t notice that Waylon was out there. Whoops.
Wrong side! O noes!
Even without a camera, Willie is usually blurry like this.
Getting ready to Plan Something Big.
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