And here's what charity does for me: gives me a sense of purpose to my days and yes, gives me so much cuteness that I think the universe might explode with it. Of course, these are not just cute kittens. They are, in fact, new to this cuddling humans thing and frankly, they are not sure if it's worth all the fuss. But that's where I'm meant to come in. I have been given these kittens to socialize them and train them to love me, I mean, us--the human race. Starting with me, naturally. Anyway, I was instructed to play the radio, sing along to music and keep the television on as much as possible. I know, right? This assignment was MADE for me. Except for using the hoover and laundry machine, those are all my favorite things! If only having ice cream would make the kittens grow to respond to cuddles, then this would be the summer that I was given a little slice of heaven.
Today was Day 1 of the foster experiment. I woke early and suddenly, having had my first anxiety dream about the kittens. Mr Findingmoxie and I were back in Thailand and having Thai massages and I was relishing being back in my swimsuit, when BAM, I remembered the kittens. I had not arranged for anyone to come look after them. And I didn't have a spare key with anyone. How could I not have forgotten to look after the kittens?! Cue freakout and new for me, bursting into dream sobs. Enough to bring me awake, dry-eyed, thank god, but blessedly awake in a world where I haven't just sentenced six kittens to die of starvation in my own flat. Even though it's barely light, I have to nip out into the lounge and make sure they all survived the night. Plus, Mr Findingmoxie is new to this cats thing and I wanted to tidy things a bit before he had his breakfast right next to Kitty HQ. Good thing too, as they'd been busy kitties.
Getting them used to human noise, I set up a playlist--a veritable variety of genres, from Evita to Daft Punk. Interestingly, they handled everything calmly--including Biggie Smalls--but for the Daft Punk. 'One More Time' sent their tiny ears skittering and made one of the black kitties pace a bit. I like to think it's his jam.
Mid-morning playtime came round and it was a big hit. The first step to trust and sweet, sweet cuddles is playtime. It's obvious that there are more confident and frisky kitties among the litter. Those same kittens are the first ones who come forward to eat once I place their food bowls into their pen. I will have to work harder to get the shyer ones to play. Challenge accepted.
Music, check. On to the TV training for my new cadets. I opted for some Glee (as I'm a bit behind on the season and I thought music and TV, two birds, eh?!), which to be honest, acted as a lullaby for the kittens. They dropped off immediately, only occasionally squinting up at me; I like to think they were making sure I was still there. Yes, they're already that attached to my awesomeness. What they did not enjoy was Maria Sharapova's match today--and I'm pretty sure, given the outcome, neither did Ms Sharapova. The emphatic shrieks of the tennis star did not endear Ms Sharapova to my napping brood, sadly.
Having noticed that they scurry back whenever I approach the pen, I wanted to get them acclimatized to me and so, after lunch, I arranged my yoga mat alongside their pen. I stretched out with my current reading (Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo. I know, not kitten friendly. If I dropped the tome, a kitten could be squashed. But, I always have read dangerously.) and we spent a lovely hour napping and reading.
Tomorrow, I will focus on stroking each kitten, hoping that once I scratch beneath their ears they'll see less of a purely functional use for humans--a.k.a food dispenser.
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