Millie and Lucy are littermates but have decidedly different personalities.
Millie just throws herself — at people, at toys, at adventures. She’s incredibly fast and rarely stops moving. She likes to be petted but she doesn’t like to stay still. She’s happy to be picked up but almost immediately thinks of something she’d be happier doing. She explores — the first to figure out how to get atop the bookcases, the first to discover where all the dangling cords are located, the first to charge down the stairs.
Lucy is more reserved. She’ll wait a bit before she comes to see me. Most of the time she’s not that crazy about being held, but once in a while she’ll be content to lay in my arms for extended periods. She’s playful, but in a more controlled way. She’s also a klutz, falling off chairs, running into things. I’ve still not seen her on top of the bookcases.
They don’t look much alike either. Apart from the differences in color and pattern, Millie is longer and sleeker, with shorter hair. Lucy is a bit shorter, a bit taller, with long, thick hair.
They are so different that I began to have my suspicions. I whispered them to my wife and wondered. But when the vet told us she suspected the same thing it became a near certainty.
Now I dread the day when I’m going to have to sit the two of them down and tell them that they probably have different fathers. Which means, my dear kittens, that your mother was promiscuous!
One day, one of them managed to step on the remote and turn the TV on. When my wife went into the room to check on the noise, they were sitting in the La-Z-Boy watching the screen.