Temperatures "Plummet" and the Kitten Makes a Discovery

I use the quotes around plummet in the title because, well, this is Southern California, and to hit the dial under 60 counts as "frigid" in these parts.

And those temperatures (in the 70s and 80s during most daylight hours) inspired us to get our wall furnace kicked on.

And then Picasso, our kitten, made the discovery: Warmth! Coming from the wall! The sounds of the thing belching back to life had him transfixed, and then...well, he is a kitten:

This is, maybe, ten minutes after it was pumping heat. Makes you smirk.

In other cat news: A while back I remember thinking that when (or, frightingly, if) Tux returned to his normal self, un-afflicted by the bizarre skin tremors that have haunted him for the past twenty months and reduced his quality of life to shite, that he would be an elder cat, having slid past the dignified middle-aged kitty stage.

That turned out to be wrong. And I've never been so happy to have been wrong. Tux is nearly back to normal. A serious, HST-style drug regimen had helped, and he's mostly back. He comes for love, he connives for food, he's not really playing with 'Casso, but he's hissing at him less and less. It's a new day.