My niece Lizzie, who was raised with these cats, came over to visit this litter a day or two after they were born. Wendy was still in Portland, so she hadn’t seen them yet. Lizzie picked up a kitten and said, “Oh my god, these kittens are huge!”
I said, “Really? I had no idea. No wonder Margot looked like she was going to have six and only had three.”
At that point, little guy I resuscitated was the littlest, but he soon outstripped his siblings, and became the biggest. At that point, I nicknamed him Chunk.
He’s about four weeks old here, and since I come to visit him every day, he finds me a trustworthy character.
You guys know me. You know I don’t usually talk like this. But I wuv him.
(And yes, I am still weaving.)