Sizes

In a week, the Tempos will be six months old. I have mentioned and shown often how big they are, but I thought a visual comparison was in order. This is Allegro, the second-born Tempo, with Moxy, an adult cat of about eight years of age, a dense heavy-weight and a little bigger than medium-size.

Next, we have Coda, who is about three, possibly four, weeks older than the Tempos. I think he will be a smaller than average adult when fully grown, so he is likely littler than the average kitten of seven months.

I suspect this obvious difference is the result of both genetics and feeding. Rhapsody was fed very well during her pregnancy and while she was nursing. I didn’t stint on her food and, after her kittens started eating solid nutrition, they were served as plentiful a menu as their mother. And who knows what sort of monster their father was. Coda came to me already five months old. I think he had previously received less food than the Tempos, and his parents were probably small to medium cats.

In any case, all are perfect kittens, very active, happy, out-going with other felines, friendly with people (well, Coda is getting there) and healthy. It’s just that most of them are huge.

When a Tooth is as Exciting as It Gets

Someone asked if things were going all right in the Cosy Cabin, because nothing had been published on the blog for a few days. Everything is well; nothing new has occurred - except that Allegro lost a tooth.

I think it came out while he was playing with a toy (Millie’s former collar, pulled off by Brazil during a minor set-to, and taken on as a plaything by the Tempos). If neutering didn’t bother Allegro much, I doubt that a baby tooth, meant to fall out, would amount to anything. In fact, he kept playing and probably didn’t even notice the loss.

There is interest in Presto from someone hoping to adopt a kitten. I don’t grow too excited at such news. He has had someone inquiring after him a couple of times before, as have other Tempos, and Andante and Allegro together. These possibilities all fell through. It is like that sometimes in rescue-work. Our group’s adoption process is very thorough, not just to make sure the adopters are fit for our cats, but to make sure they are matched with the right cat. This takes time, and some people prefer just to find one from the local animal shelter, or from on-line market-places. When the right person comes along for the Cosy Cabin’s foster-felines, we will know it. Perhaps this is Presto’s.

In the meantime, the kittens continue to mature (sort of) and grow (definitely) and lose baby teeth (inevitably).

Bang-bang-bang-bang

The Tempos like to play with the rods that control the curtains and blinds in the Cosy Cabin. I think they like the way they bounce against the window or its frame. Bang-bang-bang-bang. Bang-bang-bang-bang. I don’t mind hearing that, really; the kittens have never attacked the curtains or blinds themselves, so it’s best to divert their attention with something innocuous. Bang-bang-bang-bang. Bang-bang-bang-bang. It’s true that it can be a bit disruptive at night, and is rather like a primitive alarm clock, derived from a dropped stick. But they seem to enjoy it. They like the repetition, I think. Bang-bang-bang-bang. Bang-bang-bang-bang. And they have to be adopted some day, right?

Butt Heads

Sometimes Moxy and Brazil wrestle, especially just before meal-times, when Mox now and then is carried away with rough-housing. Other times, they sit and groom each other. Periodically, they snooze together. That’s the way it is with brothers.

Hehehehe

I don’t know if he is trying to hide or not, but I’ll bet Allegro thinks this is very funny.

The Continuance of Coda

Coda continues to progress as a resident of the Cosy Cabin. Last night came a new first: he climbed on to the bed at bed-time. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be there; he remained for only about five minutes, but they showed that he is ready for the next step. He repeated that step at nap-time today. Though he runs from me sometimes, other times, he doesn’t, which suggests that I am less of a caution for him than the circumstances in which he sees me.

His Favourite Toy

Presto has a favourite toy. It hasn’t been his favourite for long, but it is now. It is a ragged fuzzy mouse, black, which has lost its tail, eyes, ears and nose. It rattles. Presto knocks it about, all over the house; sometimes for twenty minutes or more. He will carry it around; he looks like he’s wearing a thick black moustache.

The ragged black fuzzy mouse is Presto’s comfort and joy at the moment, his constant source of delight. We should all have a favourite toy like the ragged black fuzzy mouse.