I've noticed recently that someone's been busy and has been booing all of Eiríkr's photos/posts on the first page.
And it's not that I have something against people having an opinion - and furthermore a different opinion than mine ..but why boo such a cute little ball of fluff?
At least leave some comment and explain your choice?! Are you not content with the subject of the photographs, the quality, the photographer, the idea of this blog? Leave comment. Explain.
That being said, yes I am a little upset...
But you know who's not upset? Yep, that's right: Eiríkr.
He's just hot. Incredibly hot. He's trying to find a cozy, cool place and he had no luck in all this 2 rooms apartment. Not even a little corner. The heat seems to follow him everywhere so he ends up in the middle of the room, belly up, in the most funny positions.
Of course, I never have the camera handy, but I managed to get some snaps of him while on the balcony...looking cool :)
If there's a place that could be considered the dirtiest, most full of leaves and dust space, you can count on Eiríkr being there!
Finally putting that Christmas present to good use!
Yes, that's right! these next pictures are HOT! HOT! HOT! not only because they were shot in something over 34℃ but also because they feature a cuteFluffyLovely kitten, one that cannot help being adorable even when he's not trying.
Today is Eiríkr's birthday . He's one year old. Tiny, little one year. Donkey did not want to be photographed this morning. He was cranky. Maybe I'll get him to pose for me in the evening. Maybe.
I wanted to tell you how much he weights, his size and the characteristics the breed gave him, yet I realized that I do not know these details.
I only know that he's 3.7 -3.8 kilos because he seemed too heavy two nights ago when I lifted him up and I decided two cans of wet food a day is too much.
I know he has piercing teeth because it hurts when he bites my ankles, sharp claws for he has shredded my hands, that he is (still) the proud owner of two balls as tiny as chickpeas because he cleans them every ten minutes, that he does not like to be alone, that he has fur, a lot of it!, because although he filled our clothes with it the one he still has on is very generous and thick.
When he's stressed he licks his nose wet up to the root and looks like a clown.
He's antisocial and runs like crazy when he meets new people.
He is very talkative and in the evenings he gives me a full report of what he did all day, although I could swear he did nothing but sleep and eat.
He likes vanilla yogurt, ice cream and muffins. The last two also vanilla flavoured.
He likes to graze on clover worse than a flock of goats but he can not distinguish between the clover pot and the pot of geraniums so he meows insistently until the latter one is presented to him for close inspection (= get the pot off the ledge, wait for the inspection, receive a reproachful look, put the pot back on the ledge) although I explained to him it is not the good one.
He likes to climb onto the topmost shelf of the bookcase where he watches in contempt and superiority all those who are unable to rise up to his expectations.
He's being a bit of an ass most of the time but he compensates with a sticky lovable attitude when he feels like.
He answers to the name Eric, said loudly, firmly, but also to Donkey, Piggy, Sausage, Cornichon, Gigel, etc.. as long as they are spoken with the same tone as Eric.
And if all of this is not enough ... I hope he'll learn to read anytime soon otherwise he will not understand:
Happy Birthday Eiríkr *!
* And Sara and Eric's fat brother and the gray that resembles the father brother and the gray and playful sister and I hope I did not forget anybody.
L.E. and here he is, a one year and one day old Eiríkr