Our neighborhood cat had her kittens earlier this week - three of them. Since she's not officially owned by anyone, a neighbor and I have taken over and we are working with the Humane Society to find a foster home for mama and kittens, though we don't know when a foster home will become available. So until then, I am the foster. Bella and her kittens arrived this afternoon, and they all have been safely housed in a towel-lined box in the living room. From what I can see, as they are only a couple of days old, two appear to be solid black and one is a tortie. Bella is grey.
My husband was a little wary of the whole plan at first, but once he saw them, his heart melted. Bella spent many days in our apartment while she was pregnant, so our cats know her. And I think my joy is so overpowering that Dave can't complain. And if this run goes well enough, I might sign up to be a foster with the Humane Society.
Right now, they are nearly silent except for the occasional plaintive squeak. When I hold them, they mew for a moment, then settle down and cuddle against my chest. I read that kittens should be handled often so they grow accustomed to human contact. I can't argue with that! Only, right now they are so difficult to tell apart that I sometimes pick up the same kitten twice. I'm resisting the urge to name them, since I know already I will have a hard time letting them go.
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