...to wash away the taste of wormer.
Our vet says feral kittens need worming every two weeks at first. The wormer is flavored with banana to make it tasty. This baby votes "NO!"
Everyone is named: Motorboat, Bright Eyes and Ferrari.
This past week has been full of kitten firsts.
Tiny scalpel-claws have been trimmed to save our ragged, punctured cuticles. Desperate at feeding time, they flail their "arms" and clutch at the bottle and our fingers. There's only one bottle left. 'Boat and Ferrari started teething and 'Boat gnawed the nipple off their favorite bottle this morning.
Solid food, kitten crunchers soaked with water, have given all three something to chew on. They growl and smack as they seize the pieces, walk through the dish, and create messy mayhem. There's never enough food, even when their bellies are tight and round. An aftermath of Mom-cat's dissappearance, and two days without her milk.
They've discovered play. Wobbling on tip-toe, fur bristling, Bright Eyes charged her larger brothers for the first time. All fell down to gnaw upon ears, tails, legs or whatever was in reach. The jingle ball made for a short diversion, but a nap of several hours was needed to recharge before another feeding. The cycle repeated through the day.
Wally, their father, closely supervised their feedings at first. Apparently we're doing is as well as can be expected from humans. His shouted comments from his perch in the porch rafters have diminished, and he seems pleased with our efforts. The temperatures top 100 degrees daily, so we've moved the kittens inside for most of the day. Wally doesn't approve. When the kittens were outside in their carrier they answered his calls for Mama Halloween. Without them to meow back he's even more lonely.
The inside cat population is now up to six. The senior cat is not pleased with the teen-aged cats we adopted last month. The teens are not pleased with the new babies. When these three are fully mobile, I forsee the house in shambles. I can't imagine putting the little ones out after the hours of feeding and care. We employ "porch"cats to kill rodents here on the farm, but I think I've bonded with these babies and so has Art. I worry bout Wally being alone, too. I am the mother of all animals, just ask Art.