Earlier in the summer, I noticed Tilly caught in a stare at something outside of the porch window. I didn't pay much attention to it, but after a few minutes, baby Effy had joined her, and they were both just staring... and staring... Turns out they were quite enchanted with Fritz, the ground squirrel that hides in our downspout.
Hello, Fritz! My, my, my, how thin you are! I'm sorry I didn't plant any pumpkins for you to engorge yourself on this year, you varminty gourd-glutton. Oh how sad that day was... late September, and my pumpkins were growing up to be bountiful tablescape decorations... One morning, I made my walkabout to admire them in the early dew, and there they were, in all their drawn-and-quartered doom:
Death by Fritzing.
I was very tempted just then to let the girls out to play.
But of course, I didn't.
Goodbye, little Fritz. We'll see you again in the spring, I'm sure, nibbling on all of my new green shoots, you ingluvious flower-fiend.
(Despite his destructive tendencies, he is an awfully cute little thing, and I do smile every time I hear him scurrying up the downspout to hide when I walk by.)
ETA: I've gotten quite a few emails and comments about this little guy! He is technically a Thirteen Stripe Ground Squirrel, and is also called a Striped Gopher. :)
It had been bugging me for a while that Tilly-Roux needed a friend.
"Cats don't need friends," Big Papa would say. "Tilly loves being an only cat."
But I couldn't leave well enough alone. It matters not that I'm terribly allergic to cats. I decided that if I loved one cat as much as I love Tilly-Roux, then surely Tilly-Roux would love a little friend just as much.
On Black Friday, Sophie and Bre and I headed out to PetSmart to view the cats from the humane society that were up for adoption. I wasn't completely sure I would be bringing home a cat with me, but I wanted to look anyway. Right away we spotted the most precious long-haired black male kitten, whose littermates had all been adopted earlier that day. He was the only one left.
Sophie pleaded with me to adopt him on the spot, but since I didn't want to make any snap decisions, I decided to wait and sleep on it, and see how I felt about it the next morning.
The next morning came, and the very first thing I thought was this: "Oh no! I really hope no one adopted my baby black kitten! Tilly needs him! And surely Big Papa is tired of being the only male in the house!"
So I grabbed Sophie and Bre and we headed back to to PetsMart. I was trying very hard not to get my hopes up about his still being there, and I thought Sophie would burst into tears at the thought of someone else adopting him. But there he was... all 1.8 pounds of him.
And so we brought him home.
Fezziwig is very loved.
And he gets more than his fair share of treats.
This is what he looks like after a long nap, which makes me laugh...
And when I'm doing laundry, he likes to sit quietly and observe.
We weren't sure what we wanted to name him, and my vote for Tuppence wasn't well-received. I just love the line that Jim Carrey's Scrooge says in A Christmas Carol.. "Tuppence is tuppence," when he steals the coins from Marley's corpse in the beginning of the movie. They didn't mind if I wanted to name him Tuppence; they just couldn't seem to remember it. They would say, "Well hello, little... umm... Tipsy? Tellulah? Tallboy?"
We put his collar on him, and it jingled, so I suggested we name him Jingle. Everyone liked that, so we called him Jingle for a few hours.
But he wasn't a Jingle to me, so I thought some more.
He was also Darth for about a half-hour, thanks to this face:
I also thought about naming him Black Friday.
Suddenly, it occurred to me that since I was in such a holiday spirit and I couldn't stop singing the theme song from A Christmas Carol, then it had to be a Dickens character from that movie. Ebenezer was too harsh... Marley made me think of a big yellow Labrador... Tiny Tim reminded me of that awful Tiptoe Through the Tulips song...
Fezziwig! That's what he was. A Fezziwig. But mostly we call him Fezz.
Here is the very first photo we took of him in the room at PetSmart; I asked one of the girls to snap a picture of him to send to Sabrina (she was working and couldn't be with us), and when I saw it, I knew immediately that I could NOT send it to Sabrina, or she'd think I'd lost my mind.
Although this pose certainly could have earned him a moniker like Scrooge.
And that's how this sweet little boy came to live with us. (Thank goodness Tilly-Roux can't blog about it.) I hope you're all enjoying your week! I'll see you soon!
Sabrina came home a few weeks ago and we attempted to take her picture with the pets of the house, which is no easy task. Those of you who have tried taking pictures with your pets - particularly those of the feline variety - probably know what I'm talking about.
We couldn't find Tilly-Roux anywhere in the house, which gave each of us a bit of anxiety, but we kept telling ourselves that surely she was holed up somewhere, not wanting to be disturbed.
So we forged ahead without Miss Tilly, who was probably secretly gloating that she didn't have to be a part of this nonsense...
(Is it my imagination, or are Sabrina and Effy Thimbles are starting to look alike?)
We did find Tilly eventually. She had crawled into the dresser, and I had shut the drawer on her, not knowing she was in there. It was Effy who gave us the clue, by laying on top of my dresser - which is something she never does. We were all very happy to see sweet Tilly-Roux again, but not nearly as happy as she was to see that she'd missed the photo session entirely.
When I asked Sophie this year if she was going trick-or-treating, she said she wasn't, because she was 13 and none of her friends were going. Truth be told, I was relieved, because I wasn't really up for the task of making a costume.
Two days before Halloween, Sophie changed her mind. Some friends of hers were, indeed, going trick-or-treating, 13 or not, so she was joining them.
"I want to be an evil doll," she said, and rummaged through her closet for something that would work. We made a quick trip to WalMart for false eyelashes and fake blood, and this was her presentation for her door-to-door soliciting of candy that night:
The girl does love keeping in character.
Even Big Papa was no match for her focus.
So Big Papa turned his sights on other unsuspecting innocents.
I'm heading back to Colorado tomorrow, but this time to visit Bre and attend a concert at Red Rocks! But before I go, I wanted to share a recipe with you that will leave you thinking you just downed 3 of those 5-Hour Energy drinks they sell at the grocery stores... The recipe is for Butterfinger Blondies, and you can find it over on my sorely-neglected food blog, Four Seasons Cafe.