The Kittens Are Thriving

We are two days short of two weeks since the [first] capture of the boy kitten, whom I call Wilbur.

Willow, the dainty girl, arrived about three days after her brother.

[How did they get here?]

The kittens are still shy--still skittering beneath the bed when we enter this room.

They have learned that I bring tinned food [yummy, fishy, smelly!] first thing in the morning, and are able to overcome their suspicions of me as a hulking human.

I stroke their little backs as they eat.

During our house renovations last summer we removed a long mirror from our bedroom door and, for want of a better place, slid it under the guest room bed.

The kittens find the glass a cool place to recline on these sweltering days.

That's Willow gazing at the camera with her brother's feet propped over her side.

[And no, I didn't choose red carpet--it was here when we bought the house and still in decent enough condition that J. didn't replace it when he put down wood floors in the other rooms.  One of these days....]

Wilbur is stouter than his sister.

You can see that the scrape on his nose has healed nicely.

The kittens eat prodigiously [and poop in their litter likewise!]

Both kittens have "filled out" on a diet of Purina Kitten Chow supplemented with a tablespoon of tinned food once or twice per day.  More than that doesn't set well.

Willow has tiny little bones.  When we rescued her, there was not much weight to her.

Both kittens are now sleek and their fur is silky.

I was in here at my desk quite a bit last week which gave the kittens some familiarity with my presence.

Although they still don't come rushing to be petted, there have been overtures--peeking from under the bed, almost wistful looks.  If picked up they purr--but dutifully rather than joyfully.

I've had several sessions at the computer today and was happily surprised to feel a small furry form weaving about my sandaled feet.  I thought it was a fluke at first. 

When a tiny tail curled round my ankle again I picked up Willow and cuddled her.  This time her purr was different. She looked into my face, arched her spine to the gentle stroke of my hand, snuggled against me for a few moments.

Willow came to me again as I was preparing this post.

These last three photos were managed as she lay in my lap

It was dusk and I hadn't opened the shutters to the cooler [slightly cooler!] night air or turned on the light, but you can see what a pretty kitten she is becoming.

Wilbur--who had to be trapped twice in the Hav-a-Hart--is still rather wary--but he knows where-of [or who-of] he is fed.  Progress!