Copy Cats

I’ve commented quite a few times on this blog about how the cats form new habits. I have sometimes wondered if they started them from watching others. Certainly, one cat can learn from another, so a cat adopting the habits of his roommate may be perfectly natural.

A few weeks ago, I published pictures of Millie lying on the back of the sitting room couch. I don’t think a cat had done that since Josie, back in my old fourth-floor apartment. Yet, just a week after Mills tried it, I spotted Imogen in the same location.

And then, after Imo, Sable tried it. (At first, I thought it was Miss Silky again, but the ears gave her identity away.) Since then, Sabe has often resorted to the back of the couch, which probably forms itself perfectly to whomever is lying on it.

What determines whether a feline will try something new based on others having tried it? And will Sable’s frequent use of the spot preclude others from using it? There are plenty of comfy locations about the Cosy Cabin, but it seems that those tested and approved by others carry with them a certain recommendation.

There's Nothing Like a Warm Fire

Presto’s imagination is captured by the wonder of the flames…

First to the Bowls

The heroes of last night’s adventures were Allegro and little Largo. The latter decided to try drinking. He appeared to have mastered the idea and lapped up some fresh water I had placed in a shallow dish. Is it instinct that tells a newborn to try his tongue on this liquid? There seems to be no precedent for a conscious effort of that sort, and yet, if instinct, then it takes a while to develop.

You’ll note that in the first photograph, Largo has his paw in the dish. He clearly knows that water runs, so for drinking, it needs to be kept in place…

Then, Allegro tried his hand - or tongue, rather - at eating. I served up a creamy mousse for them to taste, and it seemed to be to Allegro’s liking. He ate quite a bit - for a five week old kitten.

To celebrate - and to burn off all those calories he sucked back - he decided to go climbing, and scaled Literary Ridge.

So far, I have one kitten who will drink but not eat; one kitten who will eat but not drink; three others who neither eat nor drink. But we’ll see who is next to discover the delights of non-matronly nutrition.

A Kitten Miscellany

The Tempos are progressing, though they have yet to eat on their own. It seems to me (perhaps it is but wishful thinking) that they are coming closer to that accomplishment each day. They spend more time looking at the food, as if wondering what it is and if it’s fun to play with. I think Largo may have drunk some water.

However, it is in their mobility that they are moving by leaps and bounds - literally. It’s funny to watch them move at speed, since their legs are too short to run. Instead, they hop like baby rabbits (which are also called kittens). They tumble off their stubby legs at every opportunity. I saw Presto do a headstand; I don’t know how he achieved it, but something tripped him up and he inadvertently attempted a somersault, paused at the half-way point, and then flopped down full length on his back. Of course, he wasn’t hurt.

Nonetheless, I now must watch my step, because they could anywhere on the floor, launching themselves out from under the couch, between my feet, or right behind me. Paradoxically, though they move in almost jerky stages, they can cover distances swiftly. As I was leaving the library last evening, Andante and Allegro were trotting right behind me out the door.

They find the books in the library to be quite educational - at least in terms of physical education. Climbing, jumping, falling: small piles of books and volumes at angles provide a miniature gymnasium. Yesterday, I heard a scraping sound and turned to see Presto using the spine of an 1896 Encyclopaedia Britannica as a scratching-post. Fortunately, his claws as yet cannot penetrate anything but human skin…

Every day brings them new knowledge and skills.

At the gym, part 1...

At the gym, part 2...

Discovering toys...

Allegro and Andante

Mother and daughter

Indigo's Test Results

I spoke to the veterinary about Indigo’s test results today. She was pleased by the fructosamine test, which measures the blood-sugar levels over the previous two weeks. It showed a good response to the insulin, and its  dosage. The individual glucose test showed a very high number, but I am not as concerned about that. It demonstrates what Indie’s blood-sugars are at the moment of the blood-sampling. Indigo is easily stressed, especially by a veterinary visit. This can create high numbers that are not typical of her blood-sugar levels.

The doctor to whom I spoke is new, but competent. Even so, she wants to talk to her senior, who knows Indigo and her history better. But if the fortnight covered by the fructosamine test illustrated a good management of my girl’s diabetes, then I am satisfied with the results.

Indie is still eating more than she had a couple of weeks ago, though not as much as she had been before her hospital visit, an amount that prompted the visit in the first place. It may have been an extraordinary event or condition that had caused the increase in appetite. In any case, Indigo’s diabetes is being regulated as well as it can be. She and I can relax with that knowledge.

A Mother for Mother's Day

It’s Mother’s Day, and I would like to celebrate Rhapsody in her role as mother.

I have not taken care of a cat who was concurrently taking care of kittens. Neither have I had a cat in my care who has given birth to kittens. Therefore, watching Rho as a mother, right from the start, has been illuminating for me.

She was an excellent parent from the beginning. She cleaned her babies as they were born, gathering each close to her, and making sure each had access to nutrition. As they grew, she was watchful and concerned whenever I took one to handle, to have him become accustomed to human touch. Rhapsody knew me and trusted me by then, and so was not jealous of her kittens. She was, however, always vigilant, and cleaned them, even if perfunctorily, each time they were returned to her.

Something I noticed was that their comfort and needs came first. For the first few weeks, Rhapsody had been very hungry, much of her own strength going into the kittens. She had to keep eating. But if she was feeding the kittens when I brought her food, or if they were snugly asleep next to or on her, she did not move to satisfy her own cravings. She wanted to, that was clear, but she would not move until they were awake or finished drinking. This has changed with time; the kittens, stronger, bigger, still need sustenance, of course, but consciously and instinctively, Rho knows they don’t need her quite as much. She spends more time away from them.

Is this part of the plan? Subconsciously, does she know this will aid them in gaining independence? She probably realises in some form that it is time for the children to learn to eat on their own. I have been trying to interest them in soft-food, mashed up and served in Kitten Milk Replacement for familiarity. I put some in their mouths, and they chew - not that the food needs it - and swallow, but do not eat on their own, yet. Rhapsody probably feels that they should.

But she remains their caring mother. Last week, Allegro got himself stuck in the vertical bars on the side of a bookcase. He and his siblings have crawled numerous times by then through the bars. This time, Allegro crooked his rear leg so he wasn’t fitting through the bars. In a minute, he probably would have reversed himself and pulled himself through easily enough. But instead, he started crying. His mother, who was on the couch, immediately jumped down to assist him. She didn’t know what to do, and so looked to me. Extricating the little fellow was easy. But mum was worried nonetheless.

As time goes on, I expect Rho to become less involved with the babies. They will become ever more rambunctious, their care a bit tedious. It will be time for them to move on, either in the Cosy Cabin, or, more likely, in their own homes. But their start in life will have been excellent, their feeding and cleanliness first-rate, and their sense of security and belonging unmatched. That will all be due to their mother.

Happy Mother’s Day, Rhapsody.

All Heck Has Broken Loose

I took the Tempos out of the birthing bed yesterday evening. They are now free to roam the library at will, and that’s what they’ve been doing. They still have the cat-bed on its big, furry blanket, and that, I believe, is where they slept last night, curled up together with their mother. I was worried initially that they might not be able to find their path back to the bed, but they achieved this without trouble. But they like their freedom and are exploring the library.

Initially, Vivace and Allegro were the pioneers, then Presto joined them. Eventually, all the kittens left their bed and wandered about, encountering things they’ve never seen before, which is pretty much the entire world. It is fun to watch their efforts to cope with the strange and, so far as they are concerned, potentially dangerous land in which they have been placed. Even stepping off the folded, thick blanket is a challenge, as the distance to the floor is greater than the length of their legs. Andante tried walking along a shelf, between its edge and its books, but isn’t steady enough for that, and tumbled off. Already, however, the babies want to do what cats do.

What drives these little creatures is their desire to experience. They want to know, they want to do. They kept sliding under the lowest shelves of the bookcases, almost always with a multitude of peeps, as if to let everyone know what daring feat is about to be accomplished. They probed the great dark expanse under the couch, and played about in the shallow litter-pans (cookie sheets), which I hope they will turn to more practical purposes. (The pans are covered with litter from their mum’s boxes, so hopefully they will smell that hint.)

I am pleased to note that none of the Tempos are afraid of me, and some, such as Presto, will come up to me deliberately. He especially seems to like a human’s touch. For her part, Rhapsody is still watchful of them, and if there is too much peeping and squeaking, she looks to see what the matter is. Yet she is less worried about them than previously. She knows that they are by and large safe in the library and, probably instinctively, she is beginning to be less bonded to them. She still looks like she counts them when one is missing, though, and likes to clean them when they return to the bed.

The world is at their disposal now and, while it is mostly a two-dimensional world, due to their tiny size, that will soon change. Very soon, I expect.

(I apologise for the lopsidedness of the video; I can’t seem to turn it upright. In the video, you may note that the biggest (and most active at this time) is the dilute orange Andante; you can see how much smaller Largo (orange tabby) is.)