I picked up four groggy little kittens from the shelter at 4:30 yesterday afternoon. They slept during the whole car ride, and when we got them home and into their room, I opened the door of the carrier and they rolled out and fell into a puddle on the floor like four adorable, fuzzy drunks. They slowly untangled themselves then walked away with wobbling knees. They spent some time smelling things, and smelling each other, then I put down a little dinner for them, which was quickly scarfed down.
Shortly after eating, they were fully alert and moving around with typical kitten "grace". I wanted to keep them contained to keep a close eye on them, so I worked on some small craft projects at my desk while they played.
Which each minute that passed that evening, they got rowdier and crazier, and we're getting into everything. You never would have guessed these were post-surgery kittens. I decided to turn off the light and leave the room, which usually helps them settle down and go to bed, but nope, not last night. The rumblings from their room did not stop, so I returned to supervise once again.
And they got even rowdier and crazier and nearly every three seconds I was rescuing someone from a dangerous place they had climbed to, or breaking up a much-too-rough wrestling match, fishing someone out of my garbage can, or wiping up the mess of a spilled water dish.
Eventually, I decided it would be best if they could just run and burn off the energy, so I opened the door and set them free into the living room and dining room. Wylla joined us, but kept a safe distance and perched on the back of the chair while they ran amok.
They tried to climb the drapes, they knocked stacks of magazines over, they were engaged in more much-too-rough wresting matches, they were into everything, onto everything, and everywhere.
Finally. FINALLY, around 1:00 AM they settled down.
FINALLY.
I was exhausted from hours of playing referee and trying to keep them from harm's way and was so ready for them to go to bed.
I let them sleep for a bit in the living room while I tidied up their ransacked quarters. Wylla followed me in and paused in the doorway with an expression that read "What the heck just happened in here?"
I looked at her and said "I KNOW!"
As I tucked them all into the bed, each belly was examined to make sure no one had popped a stitch. Thankfully, no one did.