Progress Report for Monday

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Late on Monday morning, I have nothing dramatic to report, thank God! I do not want any dramatic events to occur with respect to any of the Cats. I was able to change the bedding, after Beauty herself pulled it apart, almost burying the little kittens beneath the old duvet. The current bedding was not intended to be anything but a pad beneath a smoother cover. I will have to find a sheet or smooth towel for the bed. Beauty's claws hook into this multi-coloured throw rag and she tends to take it out with her when she leaps out of the box, throwing the kittens, who finally have been sent off to blissful slumber, into disarray and disorder.

Ash still prowls the boundaries of the box. No doubt he will investigate at some point IF and WHEN Beauty allows it.

Sunday, 6 December

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I feel I am becoming like one of those new mothers who takes hundreds of photographs of her newborn infant, all very much the same to an outsider. It is a sort of healing process for me, however, to document the health and growth of these four little kittens on a daily basis now. I daresay they will not change much until their eyes open, but it nonetheless gives me pleasure to photograph the tiny increments of growth each day.

At least I finally was able to move the bedding a little to turn it on the cleaner side for Beauty. She was slightly suspicious of it afterwards, even though it was the same duvet but accepted it ultimately as the home of her babies.

The tragedy in September has made me aware of every little nuance in the kittens' lives at this early stage. Although they squabble over the milk source, they nonetheless do bond with their littermates. When Beauty leaves the box temporarily to eat or drink, the kittens move into the traditional pile of bodies, snuggling together for warmth and comfort. How very different for the poor little premature kittens in September! Although the September kittens cried a little, it was a very different kind of cry, desperate and laboured. These little ones cry lustily when deprived of their desire, but their voices have no desperation in them. Strong little voices, capable of communicating DIFFERENT emotions... where the poor little ones in September were simply crying hopelessly and with some difficulty. I have heard a dozen different emotions from these kittens. They complain, they whine, they sulk and they articulate as they do battle with their siblings for a nipple. When their mother leaves the box, they usually are asleep, but if one awakens, he/she may cry out once or twice, but seldom with any urgency. Nonetheless, Beauty instantly returns if the kitten cries more than twice!

The photograph that I wished I could have captured was one of the kittens questing for the usual all-important centre of her existence, but finding her mother's mouth instead. It then appeared as though Mother Cat and Kitten kissed. It would have made a sweet photograph, even if that probably wasn't the true meaning. Anything warm and moist would have drawn the kitten... Beauty's mouth mistaken for a moment for another source of milk, no doubt...

Beauty's Four Tiny Beauties

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Three days old, here are Beauty's four Kittens in a photograph taken during one of the very brief intervals when their Mother actually was willing to leave the bed to have a quick meal.

I didn't dare change the bedding yet, for fear she would reject the entire bed afterwards and try to drag all the little ones somewhere else in a panic. It is snowing outside, rather cold and the Kittens' bed is in the warmest possible location. I wouldn't put anything past Beauty in terms of her obsessive care of her children. She is incredibly possessive and protective of these little ones. I have not been able to make certain of their genders yet. There is no rush, however. I am very happy that she has bonded so strongly with them.

Saturday's Progress Report

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Perhaps no one even reads these posts but I really am keeping it as my own journal at this point. I often regret that I do not have photographs of other Cats I loved in the past... so now I am trying to keep a good written and photographic record of the biggest Event in the lives of Ash and Beauty. Although I have experienced feline deliveries before, it nonetheless always is exciting and very satisfying when the entire business goes well. At the moment, every one appears healthy. The little Flame kitten, who was last to be born and smallest initially, now is overtaking the others by leaps and bounds and it is one of the White Kittens who has become the tiniest and most delicate. The other three are so greedy that the littlest one is pushed aside. He or she is not starving by any means, but I will try to compensate a little if I must, even if I must push another kitten aside on his/her behalf once or twice.

In a year or so, I hope it will be amusing to look at these photographs of the little creatures when they were less than a week old. Obviously, I cannot keep the kittens (except one perhaps?) but I hope to place them with feline fanciers who will keep in touch with me. I try to contact the woman who owns the parents of Beauty and Ashleigh from time to time to let her know that her 'babies' are thriving.

One of the photograph displayed here is of Beauty grooming the tiniest kitten. All of them protest bitterly when she keeps them from their incessant quest for milk but she makes certain that they stay clean and it definitely helps their immature digestive systems if the Mum helps out in this fashion.

2 Days Old...

Only two days old but filled with competitive energy. They are little blind mountain climbers... forever scaling the heights of their Mummy's tummy...

Happiness at Last

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Some women were born for Motherhood... and one can say the same of some Cats. I could tell that Beauty, despite her terrible ordeal in September,longed to have kittens of her own. Separated too soon from her own mother, I suspect (which was NOT my doing), she often reverts to a kitten's longing for closeness and warmth.

Now she has her own four little bundles of warmth, mewing out their need for her, cuddling up to her, demanding sustenance and comfort, which she is thrilled to provide. She goes out of her way to assume a position that will suit all of the little ones. When she leaves the kitten box, she always is alert for the smallest cry... and will race back to her babies instantly, even when she is hungry herself.

In the face of personal disapppointment today in my own life, it gave me great comfort to return home to the sight of Beauty with her four little darlings. They are endlessly amusing, even at the tender age of two days. They squabble and fight for position, despite the fact that she has plentiful milk. They roll about, losing their balance, flailing blindly for recovery, heedless of logic, turning the wrong way often, then complaining loudly when they cannot find what they seek. Their little blind wrestling matches are hilarious. While smiling at their antics, however, I am reminded of the poor little kittens in September who never were given the energy nor the basic physical maturity to survive.

There are those who believe in reincarnation, that the souls of those who die in infancy were not ready for birth, but return when they are. I would like to believe that or at least believe that some particle of the spirit of those tiny blighted beings could share in the comfort and joy of their siblings now.

Warriors in an amazing series about Cats and one of the most wonderful aspects of the books was the spiritual component. The idea that Cats had a religion and an Otherworld where the dead watched over the living, to guard and guide their Clanmates must be very attractive to any cat lover. If there is no consciousness in death, at least they are at peace, but I would like to believe that they can experience, even if vicariously, a little of the joy that life holds. All they knew was the agony...

I am fairly certain now that the fourth kitten in the new litter shares Beauty's markings and will be a lovely Flame... the other three are purest white now but I imagine that they will develop into Bluepoints like their father. It is extraordinary how much they have grown in a single day. It gives me such joy to see that their little tummies are plump always, that when they cry, it is the rather spoiled, half-hearted mew of an infant deprived of instant gratification perhaps, but nothing more serious or lasting than that.

I am so proud of Beauty. She is one of the best mothers I ever have known. The kittens are first in her eyes. Although her appetite remains huge, which delights me, she still looks to the kittens before she satisfies her own urges. May they all prosper now!

Ash still is a bit left out of the family circle, sadly. He prowls about, sitting disconsolately where he can see his little progeny but he is not involved at all in their little routines. Poor boy! He has become even more affectionate towards me than usual. I try to remember NOT to neglect him even for a moment, but I'd like to see him become close to the kittens. No doubt when their eyes open and they begin to play, he will be in seventh heaven. Still a kitten himself at heart, he loves to play.

Nature's Wisdom

In September, my cat Beauty and I experienced a heartbreaking episode when she had a litter of kittens prematurely. She was in labour for days. Prior to that, she had exhibited no normal signs of pregnancy apart from indigestion. Her tummy never became large. Her appetite had not increased enormously. When the kittens were born, half were stillborn and one was terribly small. Beauty was a little more than a year old. It was her first litter. She was terrified throughout the ordeal and left the babies on the floor, separated and cold. When she went into labour for the next, the baby left behind cried piteously.

She never settled with her kittens. She was too involved with the labour process, dragging on and on.

I had to take control of the kittens who lived. I found an old shirt with a pocket and placed the little kitten inside. Although fully formed and able to cry, he voided everything I fed him. Poor Beauty did show an interest in the disposition of her kittens, once her labour was done, but they would not nurse properly. There were two live kittens, a boy and a girl, both pure white. I tried to make a formula and obtained a feeding syringe but nothing I did appeared to give them satisfaction.

During the next few days, the kittens died, one by one. Their deaths were not painless. It was horrible. They fought for breath and although famished, could not process the formula, however I modified the ingredients. I believe that their systems were not fully developed internally. That is the only explanation that makes sense. She went into labour for some reason prematurely. The kittens were wildly divergent in size. One of those who was stillborn was tiny. I wanted them to live so badly, but Nature had determined otherwise.

Should I have taken them to a veterinarian? Would it have made a difference? I have an extremely small income, barely enough for survival. Furthermore, they were born over the course of a weekend, when veterinary hospitals are understaffed, often even shut. The decision almost was made for me in a way. I have nursed many newborn kittens successfully in the past. The fact that these died was due, not to my own lack of expertise, but something else. Nonetheless... nonetheless, one always mourns and one wonders if something could have been done to change their sad destiny.

I cried when I buried them. I have assisted at many feline births but never one so fraught with sorrow and pain. Poor Beauty looked for her kittens as well in vain afterwards, when her labour finally ended. I felt cursed somehow, even though I knew she had been too young, too unprepared, that something had gone terribly awry.

Almost immediately, rather to my shock, Beauty went into heat, almost desperately. She rolled about, demanding the attentions of Ashleigh, her consort. In fact, prior to the ill-fated litter, I never had seen him attend to her, or exhibit any knowledge or interest in adult pursuits. It was yet another reason why her delivery of kittens came as a complete surprise.

I did not know what to do when Beauty went into heat so soon after her delivery. Should I separate the two? They were deeply bonded. If I separated them for a few minutes, they both would grieve.

I thought about Beauty and her heartbreak and decided to let her do whatever she wished... Her 'heat' lasted about three days and continued to be desperate. I never saw any female behave quite so passionately. It appeared to me almost as though she were determined to do it right, to have the sort of litter of which she had been cheated.

I watched as she began to show signs of pregnancy. Her appetite was boundless. She was like a woman who was determined to make her pregnancy as healthy as possible. Her tummy began to grow, slowly but obviously. Her appetite continued.

On the 1st of December, she began to act unsettled, a little uncomfortable. She was insecure, demanding my attention and yet unable or unwilling to sit in my lap for more than a moment or two.

On the morning of 2 December, her kittens 'dropped'. I suspect there is a veterinary term for it, but that is what it is called when it happens to a human mother, I believe. The shape of her stomach changed as the kittens moved towards the site of delivery.

I had seen a cat bed in the local chemist's shop on the 1st of December and wondered if I should purchase it. In the end, I did not do so. I had visions of Ashleigh commandeering it or of Beauty rejecting it because it was unfamiliar, filled with alien odours.

I made a bed for her, cutting the top from a deep, strong box and filling the interior with a small, padded 'infant' duvet that once covered the canary's cage at night. Orfeo's death had occurred some years ago, but I never had the heart to toss the duvet... The cats loved it. I felt Beauty would find it familiar enough to disguise the newness of the 'box bed'.

In the late afternoon of 2 December, she went into labour, not in the bed but on the floor below it. One kitten, howling loudly, was expelled from her womb. Less than half an hour later, she delivered the second.

I took matters into hand and scooped both kittens with their mother off the floor, depositing them into the warm bed. Much to my delight, Beauty accepted it.

A couple of hours later, she had delivered two more kittens, both live, both fairly energetic. She had not left the box bed even during the delivery. It was fascinating to watch.

Here is a young cat, a year and a half old. She had experienced a horrible, agonising labour in September that gave her nothing positive. She never had experienced the joys of motherhood, only the preliminary pains.

On 2 December, two months later, she was a consummate professional. She gritted her teeth, let out a low growl and pushed when the situation demanded it. She cleaned the kitten instantly and disposed of the afterbirth, cutting the cord with her teeth. Meanwhile, she continued to nurse the kittens who had been born earlier, sparing a little attention for them, cleaning them if needed when they got in the way of the rather messy birthing process.

Furthermore, she would not leave the box. She was alert for every cry from every kitten, rolling on her side to facilitate nursing for them. Only one of the four was born with no natural ability initially to find sustenance but, by placing him again and again near a nipple and holding his head on either side to force him to stay at the site, I managed to teach him to nurse within the first hour of birth.

Beauty is a natural mother. Not all cats are, actually. I have had cats who showed no interest in their kittens. When I had two queens, one simply deposited her kittens with the other's litter and stalked away, never to display one iota of love for the fruit of her loins, until they had grown into playmates for her. Beauty appears to be in ecstacy now. She is deeply bonded to her kittens.

At 2.00 a.m., she had not left her bed but was starving. I scooped dry food out of the dish and handfed her. She ate happily, still ensconced with her kittens, every inch a proud parent.

Ashleigh meanwhile, was confused and terrified by the invasion of tiny alien beings. I had to baby him a little... I hope that he will learn to love them when he has become accustomed to them. At the moment, he skulks along the edges of the bed, peering inside briefly, then leaping away to a safer, more distant perch.

Now, it is late morning and Beauty has left the box to eat properly, but again returned to her babies as soon as she had finished her petit dejeuner.

I hesitated to write at all about the delivery. Last time, I wrote about the birth of the kittens, only to be forced to write about their demise a few days later. This time, however, I believe that the tale will be a joyful one. Everything appears to be normal.

Why did Beauty have to undergo that terrible ordeal in September? I do not know, but Nature has her own wisdom. Purebreds are more delicate than mixed breed and Beauty is a purebred. Although I still mourn the little kittens buried in the garden, perhaps that was the sacrifice that Nature demanded for this litter.

As a veteran fan of Harvest Moon, I always enjoy the excitement of a new birth on the farm... infants always are born healthy and strong, but Harvest Moon does include the other side of the coin, in giving a natural life expectancy to every Ranch animal. When any Animal reaches his/her life expectancy, death will occur randomly. I always sell my animals when they reach their life expectancy, because I cannot bear the sorrow of witnessing their deaths, even in a game. A part of me wanted to reload when Beauty's kittens died in September... but Death is the other side of the coin of Life. The Carthaginians sacrificed their firstborn to the Gods for the welfare of all and because they believed that the afterlife was better than this life. They sent their firstborn to a place where there was no pain, no ugliness, no hatred... nothing that was not bright and fine.

I would not sacrifice the firstborn voluntarily to the Gods, but sometimes Nature takes her own sacrifices, gathering back some of those whom she sent into this world. If these kittens thrive and grow, I will be filled with joy, but I will not forget the little ones buried in the ground... those who died in order to pave the way for successful motherhood for Beauty. I wonder if she remembers them as well... Humans tend to be very self-centred, believing that only the pain of our species counts. I have witnessed the grief of animals over the loss of a loved one, whether one of their own species or a beloved human. In any case, Beauty is one of the most determined Cats I ever have known... Her quick 'heat' after the tragic delivery in September, and her incredible appetite, as well as her behaviour throughout this delivery, demonstrated a NEED to be a Mother. I hope that her experience now will be entirely positive and joyous.

When I witness the miracle of birth, I realise there is nothing in this world quite as magical, as filled with mystical significance. The incredible instinct that took hold of young Beauty, allowing her to 'multi-task' in a way that few humans could manage, amazed me. While in labour, producing another tiny kitten, she still managed to care for the kittens born earlier. She cleaned the bed, cleaned the new kitten and continued to nurture the others throughout the day and night that comprised her labour and delivery.

Once the labour ended, she relaxed and surrendered to the magical experience of Motherhood. She stretched languidly, and kneaded the air with her paws, a certain sign of ecstacy in a cat. My own heart overflowed with love and happiness. This is the ultimate reason for our existence. It truly is. Those females who never experience Motherhood are denied the most glorious crown in existence. The old religions who exalted Woman as Goddess, whether human, animal or a mythological combination of the two, understood this essential truth. As much as I adore my Ashleigh, he is the lesser being in this spiritual sense. There is no doubt that his seed quickened Beauty's womb and allowed her to become an earthly goddess, but having fulfilled that purpose, he definitely is superflous at this moment in time.

Mind you, not all Males are like sweet Ash. He remains a kitten, despite his size. Mentally and spiritually, he has not matured at all, but he is one of the most affectionate Cats in the world towards me. He may grow into fatherhood. I have known male Cats who combined the nature both of Mother and Father, jealously aware of the welfare and health of any tiny soul in their lives. My dear Pi, now deceased, was one such Male. I do not think he actually fathered any Cats. That robust role was reserved for his half-brother Friendship. Pi, though, would care for any litter tenderly, keeping them warm while their mother ate or performed the other necessary acts of Nature, watching tirelessly even when she resumed her duties.
Most gentle of creatures, most spiritual... timid almost to the point of paranoia where strangers were concerned, but completely devoted to his extended family.

Every creature is different and every Cat is unique. I pray that I will have the opportunity to discover the unique personalities of each of the four tiny lives that Beauty brought into this world yesterday. At least I can rest easy for the moment, knowing that Mother and Kittens are content. The tiny bellies are filled with milk and their mother is enjoying the ultimate joy of nurturing life.

Even less than a full day old, the four Kittens begin to exhibit their own personalities as well as having different appearances. Three are white, but probably will be Bluepoints like their Father. The fourth and last to be born, when I was beginning to believe ALL would resemble Ashleigh, is a darker colour... although one cannot begin to see any markings at this point, I suspect that the 'runt of the litter' may become a Flame like his mother. In a domestic shorthair, the colour would be Marmalade, but purebred owners tend to be a little more poetic or pretentious, depending on your point of view. In any case, it is this little one who is the fussiest. I wondered if he knew how to nurse properly even this morning, as he flailed about desperately and ineffectually, searching for the source of nourishment directly beneath his tiny nose. As is usually the case, although a Mother has more than enough nipples for four kittens, they tend to fight over one or two. As soon as this one found the fountain of life he sought, one of his siblings begin to strive mightily to deprive him of it.