My sister gave me three little Maine Coon kittens.  The one (a male) is nearly black with four white paws; the other two are a patchwork of different colors (the one, a female, has four white paws, while the other, a male, does not).  Their eyes are grey-green and all have extremely long whiskers and fat, bushy tails.  

They are absolutely darling!

I have since named the kittens "Boots" (the male with the white paws), "Mittens" (the white pawed female), and "Squeaky" (the second male; he mews all the time).  They are well named.

Mittens, Squeaky, and Boots are ever curious: their busy paws never stop exploring new areas.  I have found them in the strangest places: on the bookshelves (how DOES something so small leap so high??), in the laundry basket, behind (or under!) the refrigerator, even hiding amongst the boxes in our attic.

If they aren't exploring their world, Mittens, Squeaky, and Boots are lying curled up on the coffee table, on my bed, or anywhere else they can lay their furry, tired little bodies after an action-packed day of eating, sleeping, playing, and cloying for their owner's attention.  They sure do look darling while asleep, but when I look about and see magazines, books, yarn, toilet paper, or my Precious Moments figurines strewn about the floor, all I can do is sigh and pick up the mess these four precious, nosy kittens have caused.

One kitten is bad enough; I sure asked for it when I took all three!  Yet I wouldn't change it for all the world, especially when they start purring loudly.  For such little things, all three kittens have the loudest purrs I have ever heard!  Then I can't stay mad at them; I end up falling in love with them all over again!