Well, if you picked up on my last cat thread you’ll remember that they were trying to poison the cats where I work.
Well sadly it seems they managed to get two more, ginger and about 8 months and both I had already trapped and taken them off to be neutered before returning them.
The supposed idea was that getting rid of the cats would prevent them breeding.
The result will be that more unneutered feral cats will now move in from the industrial estate just behind our little compound.
Some folk have tiny brains.
Well onwards to the fluffy cutey part.
I’d been watching a regular visiting queen for a while, she is extremely shy and only seems to appear when she is pregnant.
She had her litter but I couldn’t find them for a few weeks, then one of the prisoners, knowing I try to look out for the cats, gave me a pointer, and there they were, in a cold frame. It’s an ideal spot, it’s dry, safe from most predators and the babies can’t get out yet and get themselves into trouble the way feral kittens seem to have a habit of doing.
What’s more, it made it very easy for me to collect them yesterday when they had become old enough, I’d put some food a few days here and there to see if they were big enough to take it, and when I noticed a pigeon carcass in there that mom had brought in I figured they were near enough weaned.
So I’ve got them, all six of 'em and around six weeks old, their eyes still have the remains of that blue tinge that all kittens have when they first open them, but it is fading fast into their natural brown.
You lose perspective when you live with kittens and cats, when you just have kittens you kind of get used to their size, and grown up cats seem to be large, but as the kittens grow almost invisibly you sense of perspective imerceptibly changes, and one day you see other cats and they just seem the same size as yours, not big, not small, just cat sized.
Same thing happens in reverse too, I’m so used to the size of my own cats that these kittens seem tiny, I can just about fit one in my outstretched hand, they’re so small.
They also seem so fragile too, they don’t have the strength to move their heads quickly in response to a bit of bootlace flapping around, so you have to play far more slowly, they need time to acquire the object of interest in their eyes, a bit more time to determine that , well perhaps it is something to be interested in, some more time for the instincts kick in and tell the little kit
“Chase it, it’s what you were made for”
and finally they reach out unsteadily, touch it, a soft baby claw nicks it slightly you can almost see the kitten has just understood something, and then you can just barely see an image of the predator that kit could become if left to go wild.
Of course they won’t go wild, they will be found homes and caring staff to look after them, but before they go (two have already got a wonderful home in Wales), yes before they go, I’ll handle them, try to mold them a little, build their confidence and trust in humans
feed them kitten milk in a syringe and pretend I’m mom for a few days, let them sleep on the warmth of my forearm, and maybe take few pictures for some weapons grade cuteness and then off they will go to new owners out into the world.
