Apparently Seven is not a Red Bulls Fan!

Kitten's Log: Stardate -311447.6

Species 5618, human, attempted to deny me nutritional supplement 01 (aka Wellness Kitten Formula *grain free) today, however my biological counterpart referred to as "Moocifer" joined with me in a cacophony of protest that forced our overseers to comply. First attempt at assimilation of the smaller one by means of attachment to sole of foot was met with a swift raising of defenses. Further incursions will be attempted throughout the coming weeks as the small one's defenses seem especially porous.

In our recent away mission into the extended reaches of our present habitat, we had an unfortunate encounter with a large wooden structure that required extrication by the humanoids. It seems our recent increase in combined weight no longer afforded us the relative stealth it once offered as we traversed the ledge to avoid potential floor impediments. The result of our increased girth offset the functional limitations of pounds per square inch relative to the angle of lean, creating a situation in which we found ourselves pinned underneath the fallen structure. My biologic counterpart has since been informed of her need for dietary restraint.

Our most recent efforts have revolved around a campaign of sleep deprivation derived from knowledge assimilated from species 5618, human, subset Central Intelligence Agency. Known effects to psychologically ‘dislocate’ the target and reduce or eliminate it's will to resist” efforts to obtain intelligence have proven ineffective to date. This suggests prolonged exposure will be required. Our efforts continue despite extensive forceful retaliatory attacks.

Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct of Uni-matrix 01. OUT.

Week 10 Weigh In

The girls are getting much fatter.  And we are apparently getting less skilled with the scale.

Our first attempt with Big (their gramma Mayo)...

and our second attempt, which proved far more successful.

Weigh In at Week 9

It has been another exciting week with the Fattingtons.  Slowly but surely they are allowed some supervised visitation around the house and have branched out into the livingroom.  This is none to soon, as both Jane and I were starting to feel like prisoners in our bedroom.

The Fattington twin's get their Week 9 weigh in.
And, of course, shortly after, the girls decide to cram themselves into the tupperware.

To Boldly Go Where the Other Has Not Gone Before

Last night, Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, or Seven as she is more affectionately referred to around these here parts (although technically, she is 7 of 7, but I digress), discovered the time honored tradition of vomiting. Yep, you read it right. Discovered.Vomiting. It doesn't seem like it should be that big a discovery, does it? But when you are 7 weeks old, its pretty freaking new.

What makes it truly time honored is the level of artistry with which many cats approach the process.  Catastrophe, Seven and Moocifer's predecessor, had 18 years of mastery with this art, culminating in what became known, far and wide, as her signature move -- the Circle Vomit (copyright pending).   She would begin facing the high noon aspect of a traditional clock, and whilst vomiting, in a counter-clockwise swirl, she would fashion a veritable vomit moat around herself.  Here is one such moment of artistry, forever captured in time:

You spin me right round baby, right round

It became apparent last night is the degree to which the artistry will still need to unfold.  Instead of springing forth a young Basquiat in the making, our dear Seven backed herself into a small crevice from which to secure herself from the unknown terror.  Her sister remained little to no help in the confusion.

But a few short hours later, rest assured, things were back to normal for the 5am wakeup melody, captured on video for your viewing pleasure.  So with no further ado, the Fattington Twin's version of Reveille:

The Boogie Woogie Bugle Girls of Apartment 2B

The Brutalities of Week 7

Our captivity continues into a seventh week. We are provided the minimum sustenance needed to maintain us, despite numerous pleas with our captors. The large one often appears and removes strange dishes from her feet that have new and exciting odors to them. Seven spends much of her time investigating these for opportunities to use them in a coordinated assault on the door during a scheduled feeding.

I myself have fared well with my periodic reconnaissance escapes, crouching under a large chest of drawers and then darting by the smaller one's feet. In some cases this diversionary tactic has also allowed my sister to spring from behind a metal table and dart out in a different direction. In time, I believe this will be the means to our freedom, but the testing continues.

To mark the end of our sixth week of captivity, the small one decided to inflict the indignation of a weighing upon us. No doubt a plan is arising to further curtail our sustenance. Our indignation was further met with mockery in what appears to have been a live broadcast of the event. We obtained a copy of the footage when the big one was resting and are including it in our communication to you, our dear readers.



Justice did, however, strike a small blow, in the form of a paw to the eye of the small one yesterday morning. Shortly after its morning stirs, the small one reached for me, and before I could get away, I was dragged over to its large red head. Upon a hasty examination, I did notice the eye appeared a significant area of weakness and offered a quick and decisive blow. The small one instantly recoiled and I was once again able to take shelter underneath the large soft table the captors sleep upon.

Pray for us, dear readers. Our persecution endures.

- Moocifer