Two wonderful grandchildren are here and the cats are very leery. The kids are beautiful gentle people but the three cats do not want to be near them. So they go up to the man cave and venture downstairs to the kitchen for food and water when necessary. The tom will gallop around the house to scope things out but mostly hangs out upstairs with me. Early this afternoon the Sweet Babycakes was the only cat that went downstairs for lunch.

Which reminds me: When the Sweet Babycakes first caught a home as a kitten she would spend a lot of time with an ugly flannel shirt I own:



She loved that old shirt and her brother Trouble loved her:



Fast forward more than four years. With the kids here the runt girl kitten Shiloh spent the afternoon upstairs with me today after going downstairs for lunch and when I laid out my old favorite flannel shirt for her she screamed, rolled up into a ball and slept with it. She remembered that old ratty shirt from the late seventies from her kitten days when everybody here was trying to get her adopted or into a no-kill shelter. I still wear this shirt for formal occasions when a green tie and flawless pantyhose are expected at the dinner table: