Milking it

I sat in the play place, on the floor, to eat my lunch in the hope that Silky's kittens would sidle up to make friends. They circled around me. Sniffed at the fragment of cheese I sucked the salad dressing off. They didn't eat it. The tuxedo stayed on the highest shelf throughout. Not a very successful lunch date. Until I thought to get the carton of cat milk that has malingered in the fridge for some weeks. It tasted OK. . . not sour. So I poured out a bit in four bowls and the kittens came. They let me pat them for as long as there was milk in the bowls. It is a good start. So I gave milk to everybody else who needed a pat. All kittens loved it and got patted whether they wanted pats or not. Some cats, like Billy and Zelda and Star, wanted, and got a pat, before being offered milk. Star has been desexed and the person who wants her will come to pick her up as soon as she is good to go. Even Lucky got milk. She wouldn't let me pat her but at least stopped spitting at me for long enough to drink it.

Pearl wanted what ever everybody else was getting but didn't recognise it when I poured it into her bowl. I am not sure whether she couldn't see the cream coloured milk in her yellow bowl or she couldn't smell it with her stuffed nose. But eventually she found it and enjoyed it. Mixa let me pat her while she drank his (And I thought he was a boy, no wonder he didn't want me to pat him before!) Belle is sick to death of anything to do with milk. Robyn had to trick her into accepting a couple of her kittens to deflate her mammary glands.

We got some more kittens from Cabramatta. One is very cuddleable. I decided his name should be Cabie.

The other two, from the same household are much shyer. They can be Taxi (or Tachi) and Uber.

The really good news is that Rita and family has been deemed un-ringwormed. They have joined us by turning their (wheely cage's) back on quarantine corner.