I must have decided that I have too much free time. It's the only logical explanation for my decision to sign up as a foster "mom" for Project Purr. That and insanity. A good kind of insanity, insanity with kittens, but still.
Project Purr, in case you're not aware, is a Baton Rouge-based nonprofit dedicated to rescuing orphaned kittens. Our local no-kill shelters are chronically overpopulated and Animal Control has a standing policy to destroy young, motherless cats, because of the intense amount of care they require. Someone has to look out for the adorable adoptables. So, Project Purr stepped in and now Animal Control has the number of a group of lovely people with mad bottle-feeding skills and sanity/sleep to spare.
I've owned cats my whole life, and both of the cats I currently own, Kai and Bijou, were bottle-raised by yours truly. Still, there's something about kittens that's addictive. So when a friend and coworker told me about Project Purr, I knew it was just what I was looking for.
A few weeks ago I got the kitten-klaxon, and wound up with these three lovelies:
Meet Sugarbean, Peapod and Sprout. Their mamacat was tragically struck and killed by a car, and a caring citizen found these two-and-a-half-week-old babies not far away. When I got my mitts on them, they were obviously shaken up, exhausted, and in no mood to deal with a strange human trying to feed them unfamiliar milk. They hissed every time I got near and refused to eat. Constant coaxing and cuddling finally got some formula into them, and a few days later they were looking considerably perkier:
Now, three weeks later, they've outgrown their small bathroom home and are getting bigger (and chubbier, and more energetic) every day:
At five weeks old, they're almost ready for their first round of vaccinations and just started taking their first nibbles of real cat food. Their personalities are starting to come out, too.
Sugarbean (he's a boy, I promise) is the real lover of the group. Pick him up and he just starts purring immediately. He climbs into your lap and flops, and shoves his tiny head into your hand for constant skritches behind the ear.
Beansprout is a talker. He mews when he's hungry, he mews when he wants attention, he mews when he's bored. I think it's a consequence of being the runt--he's the baby, and wants everyone to pay attention to him right now. Fortunately, I find his voice melodious.
Peapod is a girl, but she's also definitely a tomboy. (Should that be tomcatboy? Hm.) She's the explorer--first out of the door when you open it, first to scamper gleefully up a pantsleg, first to pounce a new toy and start happily mauling it. I'm also pretty sure she has the most adorable whiskers in the entire world.
More pictures--and more on when and where you can adopt these adorable babies and others like them--coming soon!