The klaxons are ringing! The earth is shaking!
Tremble in your seats! Grab hold of your loved ones!
Throw your movie-theater popcorn into the air with a shriek!
It’s almost too awful to share.
I hesitate to whisper.
They’ll hear.
They’re all ears!
The murder kittens have come to Tabby’s Place.
This diabolically adorable trio might just be the end of everything. Okay, maybe that’s a bit much to put on these fluffy tuxedo kiddos, but we are most definitely in heaps of trouble.
The three of them? They’re just in heaps. They tumble over each other, they leap, they bound, they nip each other, and they get all over the place.
Carrie, Damien, and Ripley behave as crazily and murderously as any kindle of kittens anywhere ever. There is, however, something that sets this set apart. They have exactly one fully-functional (all-seeing?) eyeball between them.
It makes one (this one, anyway) wonder if there is more of Ralph Waldo Emerson or of The Graeae about them (Don’t ask me how to pronounce their name. All I know is they are not the Fates and, coincidentally – or maybe not, they are named for three pretty awful things: dread, horror, and alarm). Either way, there is a sort of epic poetry to the tale of three kittens named for characters in horror stories.
Despite having been dubiously named individually and questionably nicknamed as a group (mea culpa), these tiny terrors aren’t actually all that ferocious.
Damien is dashing! Ripley is ravishing! Carrie is…we’ll she is a cutie, but she did try to murder my leg We had a gentle training session and a chat about that. It’s all good.). This threesome is friendly and approachable. None of them is limited by thei
apparent yet inconsequential supposed limitations.
What does that mean for the humans?
In a heartbeat, we will all be slain.
With a breath, we’re goners.
Beyond hope.
Beyond saving, over the moon, and hopelessly in love.
As I said, we are in heaps of trouble.