First of all, I should probably report that Cricket has died. I don't like to talk about it much, because he was such a sweet kitten and it's hard to let him go, even though it's already been two weeks since he died.
This is one of the facts of life for kitten foster parents, it turns out. A huge percentage of kittens who are removed from Mom before 5 weeks of age will die, and the litter I've got came here at probably 3 weeks or so: the fact that 75% are alive and hopping (well, sleeping right now) is quite the feat. The short explanation is that Cricket "failed to thrive." The long explanation is that one day he was gamely trying to keep up with the sibs, the next morning he was sprawled out on the kittens' bed with his head stretched back, trying desperately to breathe. I brought him back to the shelter vet and they had to put him down (I have absolutely no qualms about this, BTW -- he was very obviously in pain as well).
So while I'm sad and grieving, I know enough about raising kittens to know that there wasn't anything I could've done (one of the shelter staff had an almost identical experience just a few days before). If anything, I'm incredibly angry and frustrated at the people who just dumped this lot of kittens on a sidewalk in West Chicago when they were far too young to be away from their momma. I don't understand that kind of person (and yes, there was evidence that the kittens were dumped by a human, not just born on the sidewalk and left).
*Abrupt topic change to cover an otherwise awkward silence*
The other kittens, however, are doing admirably.
Molly's by far the biggest and silliest: she has a tendency to fall asleep upside-down, usually on a pillow or other elevated place, and tumble down halfway through her nap, whereupon she will crack her eyes open, shake her head and fall asleep where she landed.
Merlin is a sweetie and the most likely to seek me out ... and claw his way up to my shoulder to give my ear a good snuffle. He's the smallest now and has yet to win any of the battles royale staged daily in our living room, but that doesn't stop him for a second.
Miri is Little Miss Independent. She's the most likely to dart off somewhere by herself (which gives Molly no choice but to seek Miri out and bite her tail), but just when you're certain all of them are settled down for a nap she'll come up for scritches. She's definitely the smart one -- no competing for Mom's attention for her.
Daffodil is ... becoming resigned to her new life, I'd say. She's got quite the crush going on Michael (her favorite spot to sleep is right on his chest, facing his head while purring away and every so often talking to him). Her days are mostly spent under our bed (which is an Ikea and therefore very low to the ground, so it's pretty funny to see her flatten herself to get under there). She's finally stopped hissing and growling at the kittens and instead just stares with indignation when they approach (Merlin especially just wants to Sit And Worship -- he thinks she's the Cat's Pajamas). Fortunately for us, she's never been the violent type so we're not worried about leaving her alone with them. At this point, I'm more concerned with making sure the kittens give their elder some space!
More about Kermit and the Kittens at a later blog ... this one's getting a bit long for my taste.
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