Feral Kittens
Oh no! It’s the axe murderer!
[Editor: I found this group in my Mother’s side yard. They belong to the Lone Ranger and still have blue eyes but are playing, so they are about a month old. She brought them out to begin the weaning process.
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Established: 21 November 2004
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7 comments
I certainly prefer feral kittens to our current feral government…
This litter is mighty cute. Kittens remind me that life is, after all, worthwhile, that things are worth exploring and either enjoying or detesting, as appropriate. But now it’s time for me to go stand on my head again…
Those are beautiful kittens, Bryan. I will be posting a pic of our former feral cat Bebe.
Hmmm…a cute bunch to be sure…but what are *playing blue eyes*? *wink*
Great caption! And accurate as cats (even lazy patio panthers or carpet cougars) often decide you are an alien and run like banshees from the room for no obvious reason other than “cat logic.” Pet me, pet me…yikes! you’re an axe murderer, run!”
It’s really annoying CG. Their mother rubs against your legs when you put down food, but if you even go by it’s all “flee! flee! fire, flood, and pestilence!”.
It’s not that I want to play with them [I would like to], but if they are friendly I can get them to a vet and find homes for them. Their mother is friendly enough, but if I open the door to a carrier she’s gone, or her days of being a mother would have been over last year.
I know the struggle. I once had three feral litters in my backyard (two rentals prior to our purchase). I was able to domesticate six of them, of which I still have two. I remember picking the grey kitten (he’s still with me at age 12), holding him aloft and patting him hard on the head while saying, “If you don’t learn to like this, you’re going to perish!” He to this day likes what we call “grandmother pats.” But ferals are so frutstrating…they require so much labor and patience…and you know with the right amount of both, they’ll blossom (if that’s the right word) into great cats. But it is so tough.
Working with them isn’t as frustrating as seeing them sick and knowing that a few doses of antibiotics would cure them, but they won’t let you help. That’s life. You do what you can, when you can.