We took Comma and Sir William Purrington to the vet to get neutered yesterday. They love the carriers; as soon as I bring them out, they jump in. (To play, not because they know we’re taking them somewhere.)
Case in point: Bag O’ Comma.
When we picked them up post-surgery, they were both wearing cones. Cats use their whiskers for navigation, so as soon as we got them home, they proceeded to walk right into stuff: chair legs, walls, our legs. Add to that the fact that they were walking bow-legged, like little cowboys, and it looked like we’d gotten our kittens drunk.
Then they had to figure out how to eat and drink with the cones on. That was a messy lesson.
They love it when we scratch them inside the cones, though. Pure bliss:
More pictures of the adorably-coned kittens on my Flickr!