Bellies

All of Lola's rotundness is gone, but the kittens have it in spades.

Project

This morning, Bongo was grooming the kittens so vigorously that the sound of it literally woke me up. Lola was sleeping peacefully at the foot of my bed, and didn't stir, even when I turned on the light and got up to go check on the kittens. There was so much slurping coming from the box, I was slightly alarmed by what I might find.

It was a festival of grooming! The kittens lay on their backs looking blissed out, while Bongo methodically licked at each of them with enough force to rock their little bodies back and forth. Everyone in the box seemed utterly entranced, but Bongo most of all. I've never seen him undertake a project that lasted more than 30 seconds, and judging from the spikiness of the kittens' fur, he'd been at this a good long time.

After all was said and done, not only were the kittens very clean, they also seemed quite invigorated. There was more movement in the box than I've ever seen before. I brewed a cup of coffee, and sat there watching while they belly-crawled around like giant furry frogs.

Guard

Lola's getting more and more intense in her motherhood. Each time I approach the kittens, she trots over, hops in the box and curls herself around her spawn while looking at me warningly. This is code orange. When I bring out the camera, she kind of goes to code red, and will lie on top of the kittens in an apparent attempt to hide them. This makes me feel, at least momentarily, like the paparazzi that spent a year desperately trying to get a shot of baby Suri.

Meanwhile, the kittens have started to open their eyes, and seem to be growing at a rapid pace--especially their heads. The cuteness levels have doubled in the past few days, and if I can't document it with the camera I may need to write a poem instead.

Character

Kitten Milestones:

Birth
Development of character
Opening of eyes
Standing
Walking
Using litter box
Eating solids
Finding new homes

The first one and a half have been achieved, and the last one is pre-arranged. The rest are yet to come.

Grooming

Bongo grooms Lola, Lola grooms babies, babies make noises.

Captivation

I am totally captivated. It's hard to do anything but sit by the box and watch these little things, and their mother.

Bongo feels the same way. He's constantly trying to get into the box with them, and this morning I finally let him. He touched noses with Lola, and then began to groom the kittens while she sat calmly watching.

Authority

These kittens are small, but somehow full of authority. When they mew for milk, Lola goes running as though summoned by a much higher power. Even Bongo is a little in awe of them. He has only invaded their space once--by accident--when he fell off the windowsill into their box, and then scrambled out looking penitent (a look I've never seen on him before).

I find their large, domed foreheads to be a bit awe-inspiring. Their faces remind me right now of what Michael J. Fox looked like as Teenwolf.

Arrivals

They're here. They started arriving around 12:30, right around the same time as the rain.

Lola took it like a champ and is now sleeping, with three little black and white babies attached to her belly.

Bongo is sequestered in the other room, with no idea of the fun that awaits him. Kittens!

Detente

Bongo and Lola still like to spar, but their confrontations have definitely cooled down to room temperature. Their interactions are now more like performance art. Or kabuki theater.

This particular battle was preempted by the appearance of a squirrel outside the window.

Out

Bongo was once a great outdoorsman. Now that the spring is here, he seems to spend a lot of time reminiscing about when he lived unconfined, climbing trees, chasing bugs, and watching birds--without a pane of glass in his face. I never saw him catch a bird, but he did come home on several occasions with little feather bits stuck to his mouth...

He is still an industrious cat, but he's got a whole new set of activities that could be divided into two categories: Outdoor Watching (watching birds, squirrels, cars, moving branches, and other cats out the living room window) and Indoor Watching (watching the toilet flush, the steam come out of the espresso machine, the little lights that flicker on the wireless router, and of course, Lola).

Lola is five days past her supposed due date. I called the vet, who didn't seem particularly worried, so I am trying to follow that cue. It may not be nice to say this, but she is starting to look like a beached whale when she lies down. And when she walks, there is a certain swaying motion that somehow reminds me of planets in orbit.

Preposterous

Lola is now 2 days past her due date. Her stomach continues to grow, and the kittens have begun to move around, jutting strangely from one side of her belly or the other, creating alarming asymmetry.

Bongo has become less and less gentlemanly. Aside from hogging the birthing box and constantly initiating wrestling matches--day and night--he has also started to get competitive about food. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his psyche, he must know that his life is about to be taken over by creatures with needs that may eclipse his own.

I can kind of relate. Right now, it definitely feels like this apartment belongs to the cats.

Books

Last night Lola laid around looking depressed and world-weary, but oh so young. Kind of like a child bride on the night of her shotgun wedding. She flopped out on the couch and watched as Bongo paced around the living room, stopping occasionally to pull a book down off the shelf. Because he can only reach the lower two shelves, he has access to all the smallish one-dollar paperbacks I've collected over the years: Albert Camus, Jean Genet, Henry James, Frederick Pohl.

Bongo repeatedly pulls down a book called The Coming of the Quantum Cats and then glances at me. Does he want me to read to him? Is science fiction what he likes best, or would he prefer magical realism? It's hard to say.

Lola likes contemporary fiction, but lately she reads nothing but parenting books.

Usurpery

Bongo has usurped Lola's birthing box. It's probably an act of retribution, since Lola has usurped Bongo's spot at the foot of the bed.

In general, both cats have entirely usurped my apartment. The nighttime wrestling is no longer a novelty act--it's now a way of life. Yesterday I showed up for brunch* bleary-eyed and late from oversleeping. I explained that my cats had kept me up most of the night with their very loud shenanigans. My friends offered me a baby gate, so I could keep the creatures in the east wing of my apartment while I slept in the west wing. (It's fun to talk about a 1-bedroom apartment in these terms.) Too bad cats can jump so much higher than babies.

[*One of the most delicious brunches ever. Eggs benedict with asparagus. Esselon Cafe.]

Duo