Yes, we are once again fostering kittens. Two boys, two girls, all from the same litter. We got them at four weeks of age, still on the bottle (little formulaholics!) and just starting to learn how to use their fat little legs and wobble around. Two weeks later they are in the furry jumping spider stage, can (and do) climb legs (with or without the handholds that clothes provide), furniture and terrorize the eight resident felines, who view them much as kids view their younger siblings - minimum of tolerance with a hefty dose of 'Bugger off, brats!' thrown in there. Foster, of course, is barely phased by them - he won't let them climb in him, but will sometimes curl up near them. Much spoilage occurs for both kittens and the adult cats and dog, to make sure that everyone gets the attention they need.
But as for getting any other type of work done? Hah! YOU try working on your laptop with four kittens swarming you. They are very people oriented and prefer to spend their time on or around us when we're sitting on the couch. I have had four kittens engaged in kitten wars, complete with little needly sharp claws and high-pitched squeaks of outrage, right next to me. I carry the scars of their battles on my arms and legs. Like all kittens, they go from hyperdrive to narcolepsy in a matter of seconds. I spend a lot of time doubling as a bed.
Giving them up, even to good homes, is going to be hell. I have never fallen so completely for an entire litter of kittens. I mean, I love them all and usually get weepy whenever one of my fosterlings goes off to its new life, but every now and again there's one I just can't bear to part with. Now I've got four of those. But I know each and every one of these guys is about as adoptable and adaptable as kittens could be. Except maybe Taz, the little black and white girl. She's a total mommy's girl and just now has been weaned off of bottle-feeding. Sigh. You will hear my weeping across the land when adoption day comes.
Labels: animal rescue, cats, exotic felines, kittens