Yup, that's Marmaduke out in the sunroom with little Miss Prego Cat.
"Muffin," Anne Elisabeth calls her. That's right, "Muffin." Did you ever hear such a name? And she's stuffed to the gills with, like, sixteen million babies inside. Marmaduke says she told him she's due to burst in another 2-4 weeks.
"And I will be a good daddy to them all!" Marmaduke declares.
Whatever, Duke. He tried to mother all the kittens we fostered last year too. All nurturing and stuff.
"This is now my baby."
He would follow them around, grooming them, teaching them how to hop up on things, playing mousies with them, and teaching them about candles and stuff.
"This is a candle, my kitten. You sniff them. And then your whiskers go ZIIIIP!"
It was disgusting. Somehow I don't think miss Fluffy Muffin is going to take kindly to him mothering her kittens either! But there he is out there anyway, buttering her up.
If it were me, I'd be hissing and telling her to skeedaddle back
to the bamboo forest where she belongs!
"Which," Anne Elisabeth says, "is why you aren't allowed out with her for now, Minerva Louise. Marmaduke is helping her integrate."
Oh, is that what you call it?
Look at her, being all cutesy with those dangling paws.
Makes my whiskers curl.
It's all right though. Rohan, knowing I would be upset by all this kitten-rescue nonsense, bought me a beeeeyootiful bouquet of roses!
He is so thoughtful!
Anne Elisabeth, being wretched, insists that they are hers. She says they are to celebrate the two-year anniversary of when she beat him at fencing tournament thereby catching his attention and motivating him to ask her out the week after, leading to their marriage a few months later.
He's actually celebrating the fact that he met Anne Elisabeth two years ago and that she, soon after, introduced him to ME. I mean, doesn't that make a lot more sense?