Foster kittens are doing well. I go into that room and they crowd around my feet, I sit down, and they take turns piling into my lap. Keith might be a hellion, but he’s also the biggest baby and will just lay in my lap and let me pet him for a long, long time. Khalili has turned out to be a big biter – really the only one of the bunch – and I have to keep an eye on her, or she’ll come over and chomp down on my toes. Chemda is a sweetie, but doesn’t really care to be picked up, or even to sit in my lap, but she’ll sashay back and forth and demand to be petted. Brolo is a big lover and also enjoys fighting with the other kittens. Patrice has calmed down and there’s very little hissing in the kitten room these days, unless someone gets scared.
I got their story from the shelter manager: they all came from a farm in Tennessee – there were several moms left at the farm, and most of the other kittens (I’m not sure how many) either died or were killed by other animals. These were the lucky ones. The foster mom ended up keeping the moms & SAAW had them spayed. Keith and Brolo are from the same litter, and Patrice, Khalili and Chemda are all “only children.”
Brolo and Keith had a sister that the foster mom kept. Check her out:
I told the manager that it’s probably a good thing the foster mom kept the kitten, given Fred’s weakness for blue-eyed girls!
Brolo and Khalili cuddle.
Brolo up close.
It would appear that I haz a flavor.
Pretty Chemda.
“That TICKLES!”
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“::grumblegrumblegrumble:: stupid CHICKENS, stupid chicken POOP, always CHICKENS pooping all over the place, stupid! ::grumblegrumble::”
The watchcats at work.