This week the Hellboys went into the vet for their annual check-up. I knew they had grown, but hadn’t quite realized how much. They are no longer kittens, but full fledged cats. At least in size and stature. In my mind, however, like all the other fur babies, they are, and always will be spry youngsters.
Max weighed in at 12 pounds, 10 ounces. He’s grown into a fine strapping fellow. He wanted nothing to do with the vet, and decided if he could hide his face in my arm, and not see out, then obviously no one could see him, and he would avoid whatever awaited in this odd smelling place.
Puck, his brother (yes, despite what they look like, they are truly brothers) is a bit smaller at 10 pounds 4 ounces. There is indeed a cat under all that fur, and you can tell when he walks on you that he is not a lightweight.
Puck also expressed his displeasure at the vet’s office: growling. A sound I’ve never heard come out of his furry self. Low. Deep. Scary. It didn’t help that the vet tech kept referring to him as a her. He’s a manly cat under all that fur, and people had best not forget it!