Background information
Witnessing the wonder of kittens being born
by Patrick Vogt
Playing, eating, pooing and sleeping – all day long! Our kittens are keeping us pretty busy at the moment. Nothing’s safe from the three little rascals.
Seven weeks – that’s how old our kittens are as I write this. Seven weeks since mum cat Mira gave birth to three tiny balls of fur. She let us experience the birth up close. Perhaps she realised she needed some help. My wife and I are definitely cat midwives now.
Since then, Mira’s offspring have developed splendidly. The little ones are growing and thriving. They fascinate us every day… and they keep us increasingly busy. But first things first.
In the first few weeks, mum Mira cares for her offspring. And we’re out and about, raving to people about our cute kittens. Every day we take the little rascals out of their enclosure for a few minutes to get them used to us, we play with them and cuddle them. On one of these occasions, one of them pees on the duvet, signalling the end of our break time. We soon realise we have to get a litter tray for the kitties. And with it their first food (link in German).
The first improvised litter tray turns out to be, well, let’s say suboptimal. We put an open bowl of cat litterin the kittens’ enclosure and put them in it straight away to try it out. Less than five minutes later, the previously cosy and clean enclosure is a veritable pigsty. The kittens soon learn cat litter probably isn’t on the menu after all. The food we put next to it is much tastier. Even if it can’t replace mum’s milk… yet.
To keep the mess in the kitten enclosure as clean as possible, we get a litter tray with a lid. This is much better because most of the litter now actually stays inside. And the little ones understand almost immediately what we want them to do – to do their business in this sandpit. They’ve been committed to the tray ever since and visit it, well… a lot! I’m still amazed at how many faeces such small creatures produce. Cleaning the litter box regularly is a real shit job. Yet I enjoy doing it for some reason.
With the litter tray and the addition of solid food, the days of having kittens in our bedroom are numbered. Even though they still sleep a lot, they’re becoming more and more lively and noisy. We’re therefore moving their enclosure into our daughter Zoe’s room, who sleeps with us anyway. There, the little ones can romp around to their heart’s content at any time of day or night, play with each other and discover their still squeaky little voices. So the three of us can get a good night’s sleep. Works for me.
The move to the new surroundings goes well until I hear unusual noises from Zoe’s room one afternoon when I’m working from home… and then nothing at all. One of the three little rascals has tackled the once insurmountable «walls» of the enclosure, sits somewhat precariously on the sheep stool next to it and looks at me.
It’s confirmed that same evening that the three little rascals can no longer be kept in the enclosure. With their sharp milk teeth, they’ve completely perforated the net and would’ve strolled in and out of it anyway.
Since then the kittens have been living in the kitchen. There they have free access to food and water at all times … and occasionally to bare feet, which they love to attack. The only thing between the kitchen and the rest of the flat is a door gate We pulled a thin wooden board through the bars. It’s their protected environment where they can do what they want, when they want.
We gradually let them explore the whole flat more. But we still want to be around when they go exploring, just in case. We have many loopholes where a kitten can get in, but may not be able to get out on its own. Under our supervision and mum Mira, they’ve already made their first attempts at walking outside.
Speaking of Mira, in the first few weeks she was the caring mother her little ones couldn’t be without, but now she takes more and more time for herself. Weaning from breast milk goes hand in hand with the overall weaning process. Her offspring will soon be standing on their own two feet.
Seven weeks – that’s how old our kittens are as I write this. Seven weeks already! Their day of departure is now closer than the day they were born. How time flies. From the twelfth week onwards, we’re passing two of them on. To trusting, caring hands. There’s plenty of demand, but we haven’t decided who yet. One thing I know for sure, it’ll hurt when they go.
The physical pain has been tolerable so far. In case you’ve read the first kitten post and are wondering – no they haven’t climbed up my legs yet. But hey, we still have five weeks together with the three little shits.
Which two kittens do we pass on and which one do we keep? What’s going to happen until then? And when are they going to climb my bare legs? Follow my profile and you won’t miss a thing.
I'm a full-blooded dad and husband, part-time nerd and chicken farmer, cat tamer and animal lover. I would like to know everything and yet I know nothing. I know even less, but I learn something new every day. What I am good at is dealing with words, spoken and written. And I get to prove that here.