There are all sorts of names for the three little colourpoint kittens, but the marmalade or flame male is more difficult. I thought of naming him Firestar in homage to the 'Warriors' series but I am not certain it suits him. I was watching a rather twisted British television series entitled 'Trinity' with a nasty secret society called the 'Dandelion Club'. The name naturally was a play on the word 'Dandy', as the members dressed in old-fashioned splendour of tails and top hats, but... I suddenly thought Dandelion might be a wonderful name for the marmalade kitten... Will think upon it and see if he responds to it at all.
Meanwhile, any thought that adult Cats might be more responsible than their young offspring has shot right out of the window with the events of the past twenty-four hours.
Beauty always has been fascinated with 'Q-tips', little drumsticks with cotton wool on either end, used primarily to clean ears. The 'sticks' appear to be made of cardboard or something similar rather than real wood. I use them to clean the Cats' ears and each time I have done so, Beauty has tried to take them from me. Not being successful, she then searches for the pile of used sticks and while I am busy with her brother's ears, carries one off triumphantly. I always have taken her trophy from her before anything dangerous could occur, but yesterday, while cleaning the ears of all the kittens, Beauty managed to steal one and before I could wrest it from her, bit it in half and swallowed her half!
A few hours later, she suffered from the most dire indigestion. I almost thought I would be forced to take her to a veterinarian for prohibitively expensive emergency weekend treatment. Fortunately, the pains abated. Alas, she has not learned her lesson. This morning, while resuming my cleaning session with her kittens, she attempted to find the pile of discarded sticks. I am more wary now and throw each one into a locked receptacle immediately after use.
Meanwhile, while I was concentrating on the kittens, Ashleigh found the wrapper from a sweetie in one of my pockets and bore it off with great satisfaction. Before I could reach him, he had begun the process of eating it. Chewing away busily, I yet was able to insert my finger in his mouth and find it halfway down his throat. God only knows what THAT would have done to his internal system.
Cats are able to process many foreign objects. Their ability to cough up enormous hairballs proves that their systems are ingenious, to say the least. On the other hand, I am too bound to my Cats emotionally to deal with the anxiety these peculiar snacks create.
Beauty's bizarre behaviour in leaping onto my back so that she can perch on the back of my neck to paw through and lick my hair has not ceased either. It is most uncomfortable but it is something she has done from our first meeting. I have tried to discourage the practice in vain. Yesterday, however, while she was breathing heavily and obviously in some distress, I found myself vowing to myself, that should she recover properly, I would allow her to sit on my head again!
I did not expect her recovery to be so quick, though. This morning, she had recovered to the point where she leapt from the floor onto my back and then to her favourite spot at the base of my neck to burrow into my hair. I suppose if she is displaying a keen interest both in the cotton wool sticks and high places, she IS recovered from whatever ailed her yesterday afternoon. I really do think that swallowing half a stick with cotton wool at the end has to have been the cause. It brings to mind the old adage that: 'Curiosity killed the Cat.' I hope to God it never will, but certainly there are some narrow escapes from time to time.