The babies have reached that age where they want to go exploring, and they still fit underneath furniture and through gaps that an adult-sized cat can’t. So many cables to protect.
This lot aren’t afraid of anything; their mum flees for the tallest available shelf when the vacuum cleaner goes on (“I’m out! Every cat for herself!”) but the four little ones just look up, blink, and go back to sleep – or continue to play in the path of the oncoming vacuum. They fall in their water dish, and just hop out and continue chasing each other around the house, then dive back into the water dish. And it’s cold at the moment, I wouldn’t want to go swimming. Fearless jungle cats.
Fearless jungle cats who are just starting to learn to play with a feather and squeaky mouse toy – and George (my 8 kg tomcat) wants so very badly to play with them, and they’re not quite big enough. So he runs up and pounces on the air near them, and then runs off, hoping to be chased, or tosses a toy in the air and the claws it ruthlessly, all the while looking ot see if the babies are learning to ‘hunt’ with him. He’s a cutie. I didn’t get a picture, but the other day Dany left all four cuddled up with George in a basket, and she went to sleep in the sun on the other side of the room while he washed the kittens and snuggled with them. He was always meant to be a dad, I think – or granddad in this case, since he’s Dany’s father.