I’ve found that no matter how bad things are, if you have access to some healthy un-endangered kittens, there is still room for the smallest sliver of joy. Even if the kitten is upset. Heck, that can make it better… a tiny ball of fluff, clearly incapable of fighting a major offensive, will still put up a heck of a defense if it feels threatened. And that’s cuter’n hell.
A number of weeks ago, One Eye was clearly pregnant. And then one day… she wasn’t. And she never seemed to be caring for a brood of kittens, so I assumed the worst-yet-not-unlikely that she’d lost her litter. Then early last week I was working outside when I heard a familiar noise… and found that the reason why she never seemed to be heading off to care for her kittens was because they were *right* *there.* She had installed them within my workshop, and had trained ’em to be quiet. Since their discovery, they’ve been growing slowly bolder, coming up to the back door with her when she goes mooching for a free meal. Yesterday one fell into a window well and made an incredible racket until I helped it out; today they clustered at the back door and were each picked up in turn. One sort of accepted it; two tried their best to rip my hand off (d’awwww…).
This is the feller that sort of accepted it, though clearly with a deep sense of worry. It didn’t help him when his half-brother Speedbump came up to investigate:
And it really didn’t help that Raedthinn spent the whole time growling:
Raedthinn, as may probably seem fair, is less than thrilled with new felines intruding on his turf, and is more than willing to give voice to his displeasure.
