Don't ever let anyone tell you that baby kittens are cute little darlings. I mean, they're cute and all, and they are, of course, darling, but...well, okay, let me start again.
Hungry, that's what they are. And good lord, frantic - one might say viscous, if one wanted to put a judgement on it. You try to cuddle them and they try to eat you alive. And once they grow teeth, that isn't such a harmless thing...
I'm covered in little tiny scratches all over my arms and little bite marks on my face. I don't like how thin they are - a healthy kitten is fat and plump, with plenty of fuel for growing. But they don't like the canned food nearly as much as the milk replacer I mixed with egg and yogurt for their first month of life. And they don't like sticking their faces into a bowl nearly as much as being cuddled close in my arms as they eat. Its hard not to pull out the milk replacer again, as I worry about the weight they've lost and the lack of glossiness to their fur. But they have to learn to eat this way - even if I could feed them 8 hours a day, they would not get the nutrition they need from the bottle anymore. And we'd have to mortgage the ranch to afford the amount of formula they would go through as big as they are these days.
I know what they need more than anything is contact with their mother figure - me - buts its hard to hold them and stroke them when they bite and scratch me all the time. So far they associate me with food. they don't even know that what they crave from me isn't the bottle anymore, its my touch and my voice and the up and down of my breath as they sleep against my chest. They are frantic for something and they think it is food, so they swarm me whenever I come near, bitting, scratching - and I put them away in the cage which I have built into half the living room to house them, but which doesn't give them the one thing they need the most - me.
I made a bag that I can wear, something they can sleep in so they can have contact with me as I go about my day. But they don't want to sleep in the bag. They climb out and claw and bite and fall to the floor under my feet and tangle in my hair.
If I were a mother cat, I would take care of the biting and the clawing with a hiss and a screech and a swipe of my paw. A few well placed swats and they would learn to cuddle without causing pain. I suppose I'm going to have to do that. Picking them up and moving them off me three hundred times in the space of a minute doesn't teach them anything, and it only makes me angry. If they don't learn these boundaries from me, they will not be very adoptable once they start looking for their forever homes.
No kitten much likes weaning time, and they were thriving before. I have no reason to think they wont thrive again. Its just an adjustment. But I do feel I that what they really need right now is more contact, more time out of their crate. The problem with that is the poop, of course. They have learned to use a little box when they are in their crate, but I don't know that they will be that reliable about it yet, if I keep them out for long periods. And I do hate the constant need to clean up, the constant wear-and-tear on the carpet or, worse, the couch. But their coats aren't shinny and they aren't eating nearly enough. What's a little poop compared to that?
Three more weeks, that is what they have before they go in for adoption. Three weeks to get them strong, healthy and confident in the world. Three weeks to thrive. Glossy coats and round, plump bellies. A few lessons on manners with those claws and teeth. I can always put some extra towels on the bed in case there are messes in the night. After all, they've only got three weeks to thrive.
I'm covered in little tiny scratches all over my arms and little bite marks on my face. I don't like how thin they are - a healthy kitten is fat and plump, with plenty of fuel for growing. But they don't like the canned food nearly as much as the milk replacer I mixed with egg and yogurt for their first month of life. And they don't like sticking their faces into a bowl nearly as much as being cuddled close in my arms as they eat. Its hard not to pull out the milk replacer again, as I worry about the weight they've lost and the lack of glossiness to their fur. But they have to learn to eat this way - even if I could feed them 8 hours a day, they would not get the nutrition they need from the bottle anymore. And we'd have to mortgage the ranch to afford the amount of formula they would go through as big as they are these days.
I know what they need more than anything is contact with their mother figure - me - buts its hard to hold them and stroke them when they bite and scratch me all the time. So far they associate me with food. they don't even know that what they crave from me isn't the bottle anymore, its my touch and my voice and the up and down of my breath as they sleep against my chest. They are frantic for something and they think it is food, so they swarm me whenever I come near, bitting, scratching - and I put them away in the cage which I have built into half the living room to house them, but which doesn't give them the one thing they need the most - me.
I made a bag that I can wear, something they can sleep in so they can have contact with me as I go about my day. But they don't want to sleep in the bag. They climb out and claw and bite and fall to the floor under my feet and tangle in my hair.
If I were a mother cat, I would take care of the biting and the clawing with a hiss and a screech and a swipe of my paw. A few well placed swats and they would learn to cuddle without causing pain. I suppose I'm going to have to do that. Picking them up and moving them off me three hundred times in the space of a minute doesn't teach them anything, and it only makes me angry. If they don't learn these boundaries from me, they will not be very adoptable once they start looking for their forever homes.No kitten much likes weaning time, and they were thriving before. I have no reason to think they wont thrive again. Its just an adjustment. But I do feel I that what they really need right now is more contact, more time out of their crate. The problem with that is the poop, of course. They have learned to use a little box when they are in their crate, but I don't know that they will be that reliable about it yet, if I keep them out for long periods. And I do hate the constant need to clean up, the constant wear-and-tear on the carpet or, worse, the couch. But their coats aren't shinny and they aren't eating nearly enough. What's a little poop compared to that?
Three more weeks, that is what they have before they go in for adoption. Three weeks to get them strong, healthy and confident in the world. Three weeks to thrive. Glossy coats and round, plump bellies. A few lessons on manners with those claws and teeth. I can always put some extra towels on the bed in case there are messes in the night. After all, they've only got three weeks to thrive.
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