Little Dauphin and the power of Genetics

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I have talked to parents who have more than one child and inevitably, they admit that there usually is one who is the real favourite, however much the best parents strive mightily to conceal it or repress it. Certainly, where my Cats are concerned, i have loved all of them, but in any litter, one or two will touch the heart to elicit a deeper or more poignant response.

In both of her litters, Beauty had one Marmalade Kitten. In the first, it was Pumpkin, aka Dandelion. In the second, it was the little Dauphin Soleil, so called because his older sibling would have seniority. Pumpkin's colour changed completely as the months passed. His fur now is tawny rather than orange, with only the faintest trace of any markings. Little Dauphin at three months still is fiercely orange.

It is not for their colour, however, that I felt a particular love for these kittens, but for their personalities. Mind you, although the other kittens quickened different emotional responses in me, those responses were no less profound.

The two Marmalade Kittens are very different in personality. Pumpkin was a watchful kitten, even when he was a month old. He would look up at me, head slightly tilted and watch me thoughtfully, even when his siblings would greet me boisterously, clamouring for attention and food. Pumpkin never ignored me, but he would remain wherever he had been when I entered the room and yet, head tilted a little, look up at me searchingly, fixing his entire attention upon me. As soon as I touched him, he would begin to purr...

When I lived in Manhattan, a close friend of many years adopted a couple of my Cats and he called one of them his Shaman for exhibiting similar characteristics. For whatever reason, Pumpkin no longer fixes his gaze upon me as completely, possibly because of the atmosphere of utter chaos that reigns with the five Tiny Babies underfoot. He still is the only Cat who does not clamour for food or attention, preferring to watch from a distance, to trust me to deliver whatever he needs and he still will purr as soon as he feels my hand upon him.

The Tiny Baby who resembles him most physically shares the same sweet trusting disposition. He is far more athletic than his older brother, but he shares the trait of purring as soon as I touch him. He is utterly perfect physically and emotionally and utterly lovable. Of all the Tiny Babies, apart from his little sister, Iseult of the White Paw, he is the one who will be most difficult to surrender to the care of another.

Iseult of the White Paw and her sister are the two Tiny Babies who differ physically from all the Puttikins. They have the most extraordinary markings. I originally thought they would be Blue-Cream Persians, which would be a throwback to one of their grandparents. Instead, they have red as well as white in their fur and are more like Calico Cats. It is little Iseult, the 'runt' of the litter, who pulls at my heartstrings. Her sister, very similar in appearance, may hold slightly more promise of extraordinary beauty, but is far more certain of herself and far more aggressive. Tiny Iseult looks up at me as though begging me to care for her.

The most incredible thrill in the world is that of watching the wonders of Nature unfold. Although I would not have wished for another litter of kittens, still, experiencing the birth of new life is one of the great joys in existence, and especially when every new life is a kitten. Physically exquisite, emotionally responsive, filled with curiosity and love: how could a person NOT respond to these tiny creatures?

When I think of the people who could drown a litter of newborn kittens, throwing them into a sack and letting their lives be snuffed out without a moment's hesitation, it makes my blood run cold. I have studied humankind and I have studied felines and between the two, Cats are more deserving of life and our protection, in all honesty. The sort of perverted, hothouse sadism and selfishness that is exhibited again and again by humans is seldom found among Cats. Even when neglected or treated badly by a former owner, a Cat usually will come to respond to kindness and love in time...

When a Cat is feral, moreover, that is no more than the cat's natural instincts for self-preservation and not a desire to interfere in the lives of humans in any way.

But enough of these gloomy musings! The photographs here show little Dauphin Soleil playing with Osiris' favourite toy.

Tiny Version of Beauty

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It may be a Boy, but he is a perfect tiny version of his mother, Beauty. The two Girls resemble Ashleigh's grandmother, I believe. In fact, when I brought Ash and Beauty home, I left behind a Blue Cream Persian who was Ash's sister, I think. I have their pedigree papers somewhere.

Genetics is fascinating. With the same set of parents, the Puttikins all were either Flame Points or Marmalade with no Blue Creams, but now, in this litter, there are two Blue Cream females. Males dominate in both litters. In fact, despite my most fervent wish, Adoro is male and not the female I once thought him to be.

Yesterday, in the early afternoon, I heard the most desperate piercing wails for help from a tiny kitten. When I investigated, I discovered that Beauty FINALLY had decided to use the large box I had introduced into the nursery for her Kittens but which she had disdained for over a week. The first to go into it was the largest white male. I daresay he had escaped again from his blanket and prompted Beauty to make the move. He was the ONLY kitten in the box, which is why he was howling with loneliness and terror. I imagine she would have moved the others, but scooping them up into my arms and dumping them all into the box was the work of a moment. Beauty looked at me then as though to say, 'Well done. I knew you would do it for me if I waited...'

A brief period of spirited verbal exchanges followed. The tiny babies scrabbled about in the box, while Beauty arranged herself for their convenience and, within five minutes or so, they all were nursing happily and rather loudly.

What never ceases to amuse me but sometimes frustrates me as well, even though it really is NONE of my business, is the way two kittens will fight over the same nipple. Cats have EIGHT, don't they? And yet, over and over, two kittens will bat wildly at one another, often protesting vocally as well, determined to win one specific spot, rather than moving a little to find a free nipple. It is the two largest kittens, both of whom resemble the Puttikins and will be Flamepoints, I daresay, who jockey for position on a daily basis. The 'runt' of the litter is one of the Grey Blue Persians. She is very docile, even timid, and I find her asleep sometimes when the others are exploring their environment on their stubby little legs. I study them daily to make certain they all are eating and even she eats properly, but she still lags behind the others a little. I suppose I shouldn't worry too much. Little Mish-Mish (formerly Pumpkin) was like that once upon a time, and now he is one of the most adventurous of the Putti.

I am trying not to fall in love with this lot, as becoming so attached to all four of the Puttikins proved to be a fatal error of judgement. When Beauty delivered the two Blue Creams, I thought I would not be susceptible to them as I tend to gravitate towards cats and other creatures with symmetrical markings, although I had a Calico cat once whom I adored. I then told myself there was no need to fear the two whites as I had THREE Flamepoints in the Puttikins. That leaves the little flame male, who is far brighter and more distinctly marked than Mish Mish. It's all nonsense, of course. I'll love every one of them and want to keep every one of them but be required somehow to cut the apronstrings. It's much more difficult for me to do than it is for their REAL mother.