My life consists of feeding, washing up and cleaning out litter trays - I was born to be a lady of leisure, only no one has realised it yet.
The babies had their first raw meat meal today and it went down a storm. They cleared the plate in record time. Poor Maisie didn't get a look in.
I started them on human grade minced steak. I'm not sure about the logic behind feeding them beef and lamb - whoever heard of a cat dragging a cow or sheep in through the cat flap and leaving it, as a present, on the doormat? Mind you I'd quite like to see them catch tuna as well.
The last of the babies has found a home - I've never had a litter before that has been booked so quickly.
They will be with us for at least another 7 weeks, but I know that time will fly by.
This litter is particularly lovely and I am making the most of them being here - give it a couple of weeks and I'll be screaming and yelling for them to pack their bags and leave.
Billy B and Phoebe are ensconced in the stud run. Bill is chirruping sweet nothings to his beloved and Phoebe has her nether regions firmly velcroed to the floor and has told him, in no uncertain terms, what will happen if he so much as approaches her from behind.
It's going to take more that a bowl of biscuit for dinner to shift that little madam - but Bill says he's not buying her flowers !!!
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Alright, Sue, perhaps the time's come for you to consider publishing a book about the vicissitudes of your life as a slave to a bunch of felines? Not a dull line of text here!
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