Dear Diary,
Life is never boring here in the Frobbit House. Either the boys are having a pissing contest to determine who is the true alpha male around here, or there is some strange activity over at the neighbour’s house. Needless to say, when the weather is good, i.e. it’s not raining, I spend my days outdoors chilling with the gang.
Caramela is one of youngest cats around here. By my standards she is still a kitten, since she is less than a year old, but apparently not too young to get pregnant. We don’t know who the culprit is though. We only witnessed Caruso and Warbles mating a couple of weeks ago. Oh boy were they noisy! I mean, he is noisy on his own as it is, singing his operas at all hours of the day or night, much to the chagrin of humans, canines and felines alike around here. But he is one of two toms that still has his kiwis and can hence mate, the other being Sir Reddington. Here, let me show you who is who: (L: Caruso / R: Reddington) Reddington’s manners are much more refined, and as you can see, Caruso looks like a stoned street warbler and has no social skills.
Anywho, Mom noticed Caramela getting rounder and correctly surmised that she was on the family way, and proceeded to prepare nesting options for the young family.
Day 1: On April 24, the other girls (Inky, Cookie, Warbles, and Jade began taking turns keeping Caramela company. I had no clue what was going on so I observed from the window. That afternoon Caramela took possession of the cat cave, which Cheddar had originally claimed as his to snooze and chill. Next thing I knew she started pooping kittens and just kept going!
Caramela gave birth to five sweet little candy bars and is exhausted, rightly so. I have never witnessed a live birth or been around kittens as far as I can remember, so I find this utterly fascinating.
Day 2: All the cats paid their respects once the birthing was over and the kittens were washed and groomed by their mother, so I followed suit. They squeaked like little birds and can’t see anything. They are pretty useless and all they do is sleep and nurse. The only one who is put out and in a rotten mood is Cheddar because he hasn’t been able to claim his cat cave. Each time he passes by he looks in and hisses, before stomping off to sulk elsewhere. I can just see him fuming from a distance and I don’t even see that well!
Day 3: Since I am the eldest feline around here, I keep an eye on the young family and stand guard whenever I can. Not that I can help, Mom does that for me by providing food and water for Caramela, but moral support is always needed right?
Day 4: The weather took a turn for the worse and winter is made a comeback, bringing more rain again and low temperatures at night, so the cat cave was relocated to a roofed area. We tried moving the family indoors but Caramela didn’t like it and insisted on staying outside. Unfortunately this resulted in the death of three of the kittens.
It was so cold that I voluntarily slept under the covers with mom which I rarely do these days because going up the steep stairs to her room is hard on my legs.
Day 5: One kitten is perfectly healthy albeit looking like an orange rat or sorts. The other one is hanging by a thread. Let’s see how things proceed from there.
Day 6: And then there was one.
Hark! I must go back to kittensitting duties.
Meowingly yours,
Cherry
FrogDiva Thoughts 