30 July, 1998

Sitting by the Box

I've been spending a significant portion of my evenings since the kittens were born, sitting by the box in which they currently live. Every maternal instinct in me has come to the fore since the little fuzzballs entered my life. I am pesky, over-protective and utterly absorbed. I've never seen a tiny life unfold like this before, from birth through childhood and beyond. Of course I saw my brothers when they were babies, but this is different. This is so much closer to being mine you see. The kittens are more my responsibility than my brothers were.

I was four years old when Tom was born and almost seven when Ted arrived. Young enough to still be absorbed in a world of my own making, but old enough to be interested in the whole "sibling is born" process. My memories of that time, are either terribly abstract or very vibrant with emotion. Watching the kittens be born and grow, is immediate and visceral.

So I sit by the box every day, for anywhere from fifteen minutes to hours. When Tiger, the smallest kitten has trouble grabbing a teat, I lift him in my palm up above his brothers and sister so that he can reach. He is too short to stand over them to reach "his" teat, under Shara's arm when she lies on her left side. He refuses the milk-bottle that I bought though. So lifting him is the only solution to make sure he has enough to eat. So far it seems to be working. He's starting to fatten up a bit, though he will never be as large as his siblings I think. The others all seem to have about 1.5 inches between their ears, while he is still just touching the 1 inch mark.

I asked Sabs if we could keep two. I've grown very attached to Tiger now and don't want to give him away. However, I promised Sabs that we could keep one of the black ones to be Mephistopheles. Sabs said it was okay to keep Tiger. So, shortly we will become a 3-adult cats house-hold. Our friend Lynn will be taking two -- I think I'll give her Morgan and Big Daddy, because they are the two sturdiest and the last thing Lynn needs right now is having another cat die on her.

I have other firends who have expressed tentative interest, since we are keeping two and Lynn is taking two, that only leaves 3 to find homes for. I still wish we could keep them all, probably in a similar way that a mother wants her kids to stay at home always, at the same time that she wants to set them free to live their lives. It's just that theyr're so cute and their personalities are only just starting to develop. I've named them all ... temporary names to be sure, I wouldn't force the people who take them home with them to adopt my names. But it helps me keep track of what's up with each of them.

I named the largest, after the tycoon J.P. Morgan. Morgan resembles his mother the most out of all of them being dark gray tabby with faint traces of gold beneath his stripes, tucked behind his ears, and on the scruff of his neck. Big Daddy is the second largest and is very laid back. He sleeps a lot and generally does not meow at all when I curl him into the palm of my hand. He's much paler than the others, a light grey and pure tabby with white socks.

They all have white chests, but Big Daddy and Tiger and the tuxedo kitties are the only ones with the white socks on their feet. Tiger, my little guy, came out wailing and made a bee-line for his mothers teats. Despite his small size, he just doesn't quit and is amazingly strong, his grip on my fingers with his front paws is prodigious. Sasha is the only girl-cat in the litter, she is black all over and has pretty tip-tilted eyes, white chest and white socks with very light tabby markings in her legs and sides which will probably fade as she grows. She opened her eyes a full day and a half before the others and has very delicate bone structure, so I'm theorizing that the daddy had some Siamese, Burmese or other Oriental kitty stock in him.

Mephistopheles is the other black, his coat is slightly charcoal-gray in comparison to Sasha's but they both have exceptionally silky coats already, where the tabbies are quite fuzzy. He's also stockier in the face than his sister but like Morgan, shows an adventurous and exploratory spirit already. Finally there's Tortie and Muffins, both gray tabbies and nearly indistiguishable unless you're looking down on their backs from right above. Then you can see that Tortie has a slight mottling in his coat which vaguely resembles a tortoise-shell pattern. His black stripe down his back is also much wider than the others.

Muffins and Tortie are both pretty relaxed but tend to go for the same teat all the time and wind up fighting over it. I'm a little bit worried about Tortie right now 'cause one of his eyes isn't opening and it's got some clear gunk on the eyelid. We're going to call the vet about it and hopefully it will be something as simple as just putting some drops in to help him out.

I took pictures today but I'm nowhere near the end of the roll of film, so I won't have any read to post for a while yet. But I'm excited about sharing them with everyone. They're my babies too you see and I'm so proud of them.

I probably sound like a flaky cat-lady already.

And you'd be right to think so. I love these cats and I'm very glad that they've come into my life right now and helping thaw out some of the troubles I've been feeling. Of course ... it'd be nice if the nightmares about something happening to the kittens would go away!