cat minding

The Systems Administrator went to the cricket today, leaving me in charge of the cat introduction project.  I can't really complain, since I've been out myself rather a lot over the past couple of days, what with walks and talks and calling in on a friend in Colchester.

Our Ginger was around first thing this morning, which was not so very surprising since the kittens spent the night shut in the study leaving him the run of the rest of the house.  Once they were let out, after everybody had had their breakfast, the energetic kitten touched noses with Our Ginger, then followed him lovingly about until Our Ginger curled up on one of the dining chairs and spent the rest of the morning resolutely asleep.  Rather conveniently I could see him through the dining room window from where I was working in the back garden, so I didn't have to worry about him in between my visits inside to say hello to the kittens.

By noon I was facing a dilemma.  We had run out of milk, and also wet food for the kittens.  They had adult food last night and at breakfast, because that was all there was, and the energetic kitten's tiny tummy promptly went on the blink again, making me think they needed to stay on kitten grade pouches for the time being.  This left me with the choice between leaving Our Ginger asleep, with the risk he would wake while I was out and find himself imprisoned in the house with the rug rats, or waking him up and evicting him, which might make him feel rejected.  I opted for the former and scurried around Tesco at top speed, only to find Our Ginger still on his chair when I got home.

He emerged blinking at lunchtime, and advanced sleepily on his empty food dish.  I went to fetch him some lunch, and turned back to find him flanked by an adoring fanboy kitten on each side, looking confused.  They promptly tried to eat his lunch when I put it down, even though they'd just had a kitten pouch of their own, and I had to hustle them back into the study to give him some peace.

In the afternoon Our Ginger opted to come and sit in the garden with me.  He stayed outside when I came in, until I went out to look for him at which point he appeared instantly at the sound of my footsteps.  Once in the inner hall he graciously touched noses once again with the energetic kitten, magisterially ignored the other two, began to look slightly trapped as they followed him down the hall, and ate his supper in the kitchen with the door shut to keep the kittens out of it, then agreed to come and sit on the kitchen table for a while.  From that vantage point he looked down slightly uncomfortably at his tiny fan club, and then looked beseechingly at me, until his nerve cracked and he asked to be let out again.  He ate a second helping of supper in the outer hall while the kittens pressed against the glass staring at their hero in utter fascination.

Provided I can find him once I've put the kittens back in the study for the night I'll be quite happy with progress.  I worried that Our Ginger might either be so upset he started moving out, which is after all how he came to live here in the first place, or be aggressive towards the kittens.  Neither scenario has come to pass so far.  Instead they seem to find him entirely wonderful, and he seems to be coping.

I am typing this at the kitchen table with all three kittens stretched out beside my left elbow and Mr Fluffy's small paw resting on my wrist.  I know it is not strictly hygienic, but we always wipe the table before eating or cooking on it.  They have only just settled down after numerous attempts to walk across my keyboard, though Mr Fluffy's blog entry made no sense.  At lunchtime he managed to turn my laptop off.  I must make sure I don't leave it switched on and unattended when they can get at it, in case I return to find they have trodden on the wrong key and started downloading Windows 10.