Two years ago, this was me. I came to my mum as a foster kitten with my two littermates after we were found abandoned in bushes. Back then, I was known as Ron, my sister was Hermione and my brother was Harry.I'm on the left in this picture, Hermione is in the middle and Harry is on the right. I was the last to be found, about 18 hours after Harry was, and was the smallest kitten.Even as a wee baby, I set myself apart from my littermates and tried to get close to Fui and Suey. I knew already that I wouldn't be leaving ;)I was a bit of a nuisance kitten, too. Harry and Hermione were eager feeders, but I used to fight the bottle and refuse to suckle a lot. This is one of the rare pictures of me cooperating! My paw placement makes my mum's heart melt.When it eventually came time to wean I became more enthusiastic about my food and would dive right into the bowl. No more force feeding for this kitten boy!!I had a few health problems when I was a bubba, and didn't put weight on very well. This is me when I was eight weeks old, on my first ever visit to the garden.It started becoming clear to my mum that I wasn't destined to leave. Fui and Suey accepted me quickly, and let me join them for noms. This is one of the last pictures of me with my littermates, shortly before Hermione went to her new home.I'm on the left, Harry's in the middle and Hermione is on the right.This is my first ever collar. The gorgeous Alison at Preta Pawte on Etsy made me a very special couture collar, because my pencil neck was too teeny for a normal kitten collar. It was around this stage that my name started to evolve. My mum and dad had started calling me Ronny Licious, because my punk rock ear floof made them think I should be a punk rocker!That later evolved into Lishy, and the name stuck. It's even on my nametag now! I don't remember the last time I was called Ron or Ronny. This picture is of me on the top level with my litter brother Harry and my forever brother Fui. When I was 8 weeks old my tummy started to bloat right out and I lost a lot of weight. My vets told my mum that they did not think I would thrive, and they should expect that my life would not be longer than 6 months. They even suggested euthanasia, but mum and dad said no, they would wait for me to tell them.I kept my mouth firmly shut on that matter, and this is me now, 2 years old and passing my health checks with flying colours. My tummy is a normal size, my floof went poof, and I do everything that a healthy kitten boy should. I'm on the smaller side and have to work hard to keep my weight up, but that is the only reminder of the grim prognosis the vets gave. I am a very happy boy these days. I love my sister and brother. I snuggle with them and play all sorts of games with them. Every night I snuggle with mum and dad, tucked in behind mum's knees. And I have a whole blogosphere of fantastic friends who sent me so much love and so many purrs when I needed them. And here I am now, proof that it all worked :)
Now lets party!!!!