Gorgeous Pumpkin

Pumpkin, originally the smallest, weakest Kitten in Beauty's litter, now has become a very handsome large fluffy Male. I always had a special affection for this Kitten for some reason. It is the way he cocks his head a little to one side and then gazes at the world, studying me very solemnly. He will play with his siblings and be as much a kitten in his behaviour at certain moments, but at others, he is a Watcher and has the demeanour of a very 'old Soul'.

For the Dog Lovers...

Another Harvest Moon fan, reading about the birth of Beauty's kittens, sent me a picture of her lovely Dog Shiloh with HER litter of puppies. She has given me permission to post the photograph here:



A recent portrait of one of the puppies:



Motherhood is incredibly magical in its way, whatever the species. Beauty has become rather bewildered by the newfound independence of her Kittens and allows them to do as they please for the most part now. Yet, she suddenly will embrace one and groom him or her ruthlessly, determined to reassert her place of importance in her child's universe!

Puttikins Adventures I

I wanted to capture the first couple of months of the Kittens' life somehow. This may be of little interest to any one, but I think I will be happy to have the record of these Kittens and their antics one day.

The Little Lost Pumpkin

I lost a Kitten today for the first time. Their playroom is rather small, so the chance of any Kitten disappearing from the room is next to nil, unless one managed to slip through the door before I shut it. I try to be very careful to avoid that possibility.

I went into the room to feed them and could not see little Pumpkin anywhere. He usually stands out from the others as he is the only marmalade kitten in the litter, and yet he was nowhere to be found. Furthermore, as every one comes to the door instantly when I enter, it was very odd not to see him anywhere.

These little creatures are infinitely amusing. After my initial anxiety, I discovered where he was hiding. I bought Beauty a soft bed a day after she delivered her four kittens. With the contrariness characteristic of cats, she never deigned to use it, nor did any of the cats or kittens... until now!

Some one had turned the bed over, creating a little cave beneath it. Pumpkin had established a secret hideaway there, a fort or military headquarters from which he would sally forth periodically to torment his unwitting siblings. I only discovered this when a little paw emerged and then the tip of a tail.

I watched them play for at least a quarter of an hour. They were like children playing a game of King of the Mountain.

After Two Months...

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It is difficult to believe that the Kittens are 9 weeks old now. It is almost impossible to take photographs most of the time as they move so quickly and seldom pose properly.

I have had a difficult week with them after giving them too much tinned food. I forgot that, like small children, the fact that they WANT something desperately does not mean necessarily that they ought to HAVE it. Until their systems dealt with the aftermath, I spent half of my time cleaning litter boxes as well as bathing them again and again... Poor little creatures!

Here are photographs of Dora, Cupid and Pumpkin. Another photograph shows Leo with two of his siblings. I need to take a decent photograph of little Leo by himself to add to the current Rogues' Gallery.

Leo and Pumpkin have inherited their father's physique and fluffy thick fur. They have the short legs and stocky body characteristic of the breed. Dora and Cupid have inherited their mother's heart-shaped face and her silky long fur. Their physique probably will be similar to hers as well. It is difficult for me to tell Dora and Cupid apart sometimes if the light is dim. The biggest difference between them is the colour of their points. Dora's points are lighter and her tail is almost striped. Cupid's points are uniformly darker. In terms of personality, each Kitten is unique. Leo is a lover, who will sit happily in my lap for hours purring. Dora is truly an Explorer who seldom is content to rest. Pumpkin is the watcher. He alone of all the kittens actually pays attention to the display picture on the back of the camera, responding to the images of his siblings rather than joining them physically. Cupid is the Hunter, which is why I may add Orion to his name. He is the one who growls when he captures a 'mouse' or scrap of paper. They ALL love to play, though and will thunder across the floor...

Dandelions, Cotton Wool Drumsticks and Sweetie Wrappers

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.

Kittens on Display

Here is a current photograph of the Kittens as they appear when I interrupt their afternoon nap simply by entering the room. They are so attuned to me that they instantly awaken.

I had forgotten how extreme the behaviour of children (both human and feline) can be, how they swing wildly from frenetic activity to total exhaustion. Usually, my entrance is the cue for them to begin playing. They do nothing halfway. WHen they play, their energy is boundless. They tend to try to do things that are beyond their capacity, like climbing the walls (literally). They are endlessly entertaining but they leave a trail of destruction in their wake. They play and I have to tidy up after they race through their food dishes, splash through their water and overturn anything that they can manage to tip over.

The kitten stretching on the far left is the only female in the litter. The kitten to the right of her is the smaller male. The flamepoint on the far right in the northeast corner is the one who has been dubbed 'Leo.' He is the fluffiest in the litter.