A couple of weeks ago little Alabama turned one year old. She is now officially older than her poor stray cat mother was when Alabama was born.
She's starting to calm down and act like a cat more often, but she still has her kitten moments, when her ears flatten back and she just gallops from one end of the house to the other, and then back again... and then back again. Sometimes she still suddenly decides she wants to claw her way up a wall, or attack one of her toys with a passion that makes Greg, Sydney and I look on in wonder. But she's not tiny enough to fit in my palm anymore, and she never chases her tail anymore, and she is more likely to be found napping than playing with the grout lines on our ceramic tile floor.
We still call her The Kitten, though, and she is still our sweet tiny kitty.