Dinner time for the cats. My wife knows who likes what. She's working the fish and the turkey and the beef cat food. She separates the feed dishes and the cats. She gives everybody what they like best and tells them she will not tolerate anybody jumping the food of a littermate, a mother cat, or anything else.

The cats get fed and behave splendidly.

They don't *&%$ with Granma - she buys them all the toys, the great premium cat chow, and provides them with all the comfy cat beds and comforters and blankets upon which to lie down. And they all dislike her bad treatment - sometimes this nasty woman will be reading a book in the living room with two kittens sleeping upon her lap while the Momcat is snoozing at her feet. I'm thinking about calling the ASPCA.

On a serious note, these cats have brought great happiness to my house. The cats require so little and yet bring a lot of joy just by being here.

Sweet little Shiloh (the runt) is a white blur when she's going up or down stairs and is a tough little girl. Her big lug brother Trouble has a wonderful disposition with people and loves dry corn flakes. Their mother is a good girl and has been amazing Dr. Wallach with her gentleness off of being a feral cat that was impregnated on a street or backyard somewhere. I think my son had something to do with that last year. They bonded and she caught the "human touch" as a very young cat.

Just went downstairs to grab a beer.

The wife is playing a video game on her PC in the den and Mister Mittens is sitting on her desk by the keyboard and intently watching the screen and following the cursor around while the bride works the mouse. I think it's a girl/girl thing. When Mister Mittens jumps on my desk upstairs she's only looking for me to get up and go downstairs to lay out a meal.

I love all these cat stories. I wanted a kitten, but had a human instead. I'm OK with that one. Layla is a joy so far, though I'm sure the angel will grow a set of horns when she comes home Tuesday.

I get to live vicariously through you Larry. I still can't believe you call the mom cat "Mister" though.

Keith, the wife named the cats. The name "Mister Mittens" came from a book she read although she knew the momcat was a female. The name caused confusion with Dr. Wallach's office but the people there now understand that "Mister" is a mother.

The name "Trouble" came from the biggest of four and my wife figured he'd cause a lot of it. And he does.

The name "Shiloh" for the runt was not because of the Civil War battle although that's the spelling - she was 'shy' and kept a 'low' profile when the kittens went for milk in the first weeks. She always got the last nipple and was underneath and overwhelmed by her littermates while trying to feed. She's a great little girl and I am so happy we kept her.