One more cat thing to round out the week: when I got home yesterday, the kittens had been moved again. They had already been moved from one closet to another a couple days ago, but now it appeared Lucy had taken them out of the bedroom completely. I searched likely spots throughout the house, finally coming down to the basement. I walked into the band room and found kittens all over the place!
The gray kitten and one of the ginger cats were crawling through the room, mewling and generally getting dangerously close to crates full of dusty cables. Lucy had set up shop behind my bass amp, NOT on the nice rug, NOT on the comfy blanket I put on the floor, but on the cold, paint-spattered cement floor. There was no way to corral the kittens, who were busy making themselves scarce under the reel-to-reel. The ginger cat somehow started climbing up the metal grill of my bass amp and got halfway up before I noticed. Even Lucy looked like she regretted her decision.
Mother cats move their litters for a variety of reasons. She may have felt the closet was too exposed to potential predators, she may have decided we were futzing with the kittens too much, she may have just been too hot in there and wanted to lie on the cold cement floor of the cellar. But most of all the experience reminded me that cats largely run on autopilot.
There really isn't any other place for these kittens to go except our bedroom or the room directly adjacent to it. So two by two I brought the kittens back upstairs. Lucy followed and I tried to somehow prove it was a safe place. But she stuck her head into the closet and plucked out the calico kitten in her jaws. She walked towards the door, which was now closed. Along the way she passed her food dish. Suddenly, she put the kitten on the floor and just started eating. After a minute, she got back on track and picked up the kitten again. She walked to the door, and finding it closed, dropped the kitten and went back to the food bowl. The kitten sat there, looking around patiently. Then Lucy just strode over to the closet, went inside, laid down and started nursing the other 3 kittens. The calico was still sitting halfway across the room.
So thus, I realized that cats are largely a bundle of instinctive behaviors and not necessarily the caring and thoughtful mothers we want to believe they are. As of 8AM they were still in the closet but who knows where they'll be when I get home. I am hoping they can be relocated to the room next to our bedroom, it's the room we use the least, except as pass-through to the other rooms, we just have to put some barriers up so the kittens don't spill out.
On the Map Dept: I live on Eldert Street, a 6 block long stretch on the south side of the Shwick (let's get all the kids to start calling it that!). My end of the block is residential, rowhouses and an elevated train. Children run around the block and participate in activities that can only be described as "wholesome." They roller skate (with or without those shoes with the wheels in the back), jump rope, bike, play basketball, pick broomsticks out of the trash and hit each other with them. It's been pretty startling to see kids act like this, I thought kids just sat in front of the TV all day, absorbing Fritos and Hawaiian Punch while watching reality TV shows about people starving themselves. What I wanna know is, how do these nice little kids transform into the surly teenagers who hang out further down the block?
Anyway, that's life on my end of Eldert Street. On the other end there is an old knitting factory building that's been converted to loft apartments. The industrial side of Bushwick somehow made it this far south, seemingly only along the L train. The building at 345 Eldert is full of artists, and apparently a group of them are trying to get financial backers so they can buy their building from its management company. If successful, they will have a huge space in which the artists call the shots. Nice idea, I guess, but are they serious? The article in the Brooklyn Paper isn't clear how much of a joke this is, but the accompanying photo doesn't lend a whole lot of credibility to their crusade. They need some kind of venture capitalist to provide the dough to buy the place, who's gonna do that? This sounds like the 21st century version of the "Let's put on a show!!" type stuff from the 70's and 80's. I hope they pull it off, though I'm pretty sure this isn't the first time anybody thought of this ("Hey, we all live here, we're all into the same stuff, let's buy the building!"), but I dunno if anybody ever actually went through with it. Aren't there any wealthy, eccentric philanthropists anymore?
Still, the notion of a gaggle of artists trying to run their own building ... shades of Lord of the Flies? Speaking of which, are you aware there's gonna be a reality TV show in which a group of children live in the wild without adult supervision? See what the kids on my street are missing out on?
More kitten developmental milestones: Two of the kittens have their eyes sorta open. The gray kitten is furthest along in that regard, and seems to be the best walker of the group so far. But these skills come at a terrible price: he's really annoying.
He whines more often and louder than any of the others. He doesn't seem to be in distress, he just seems impatient with this phase of kittenhood. He cries when he's hungry and can't immediately start nursing, he cries when the other kittens step on his head (but not when he steps on them!), he cries when he crawls away from Lucy, he cries when he's nursing, which is quite a feat. The other kittens are pretty quiet, although this morning they were literally swarming all over Lucy, squealing the whole time. Here's some video of Lucy's daily routine, feeding the kittens and try to groom them while they run roughshod all over her. UPDATE: I have uploaded a lighter version to better reveal the antics of the black kitten.
The calico cat also has her eyes open, but she's relatively silent. She's really cute but all the photos I've taken of her come out looking like the crate monster from Creepshow. Perhaps she's photograph better in another week or so.
The ginger cats haven't opened their eyes yet, but it looks like the corners are giving way, so they should be open soon. They're significantly larger than the non-ginger kittens, I'm not sure why that is. They're all getting enough to eat, although they still haven't learned how to share nipples yet. Luckily, the first-served will drift off to sleep after a while, allowing the next team to move in.
Here's another video in which one of the ginger cats leaves the safety of the box to seek his fortune on the outside. I kept waiting for him to turn around and go back in the box, but instead he chose to just to spin in circles ad nauseum. Meanwhile, Lucy, who normally would come out and pick him up, was dealing with all the other kittens, so I had to put him back in, where he promptly burrowed under his mom.
If I may step away from kittens for a moment (okay I forgot to bring in the newest pictures), I want to do something actually blog-related for once, namely link to a couple sites that merit attention.
First up is Vice Magazine's blog. Vice's main site is blocked when I'm at work and generally I'm pretty sick of the magazine and the way its record label automatically ruins any band it touches. But its blog, which is just on a Typepad subdomain, often has good stuff. Case in point, brief interviews with Indians representing each caste of its society. The Indian Caste system is something that's always fascinated me, especially since in the US, we're not supposed to have such delineations. But of course, we totally do but we're not supposed to speak of it. Capitalism is supposed to smooth all of it over, but all it does is build resentment in my estimation. But India, with its rigidly defined classes (and many subclasses), whenever you ask somebody there how they feel about it, they're always like "Oh, it's great! Everybody loves it!"
Secondly is Cracked Magazine. You may know this magazine from your youth as mostly-lame ripoff of Mad Magazine (which was itself a lame ripoff of the Kurtzman-era Mad Magazine). But the web version (I dunno if there is a print version anymore) is replete with mildly amusing articles that appeal to the Baby-Bust generation. At least males from this generation. Some hit that pointless ranking gene that seems to be present in guys, ie, "The 7 Most Underrated Movie Henchmen" (including that "Kill Frogs" guy from The Muppet Movie). Some are actually pretty astute, despite their sophomoric inspiration, such as "The 5 Biggest Pricks in Congress."
"...kill frogs..."
For sheer day-wasting, Cracked is doing its darnedest to please (see Hateful Stereotypes Behind 5 Lovable Cereal Mascots). I prefer this to the reading-the-headline-only Onion. The content on Cracked is much more in line with my type of mind-wandering, where I'll be doing some vaguely work-related, say, editing PDF file names to match my arcane filing techniques and it'll occur to me, "I wonder how many other famous people are Scientologists that I don't even know about." Voila! The Top 10 Secret Celebrity Scientologists to the rescue!
The kittens seem to be doing well, from preliminary examination I believe we have 3 boys and one girl (the black-orange one). I could be wrong of course, I don't like holding them for very long cuz they keep wriggling so much I fear I will drop them on their exceedingly large heads. They are getting bigger, but still haven't opened their eyes or learned to walk properly. They get around mostly by slinking around and rolling on top of one another.
It's way too early probably, but some personality seems to be coming to the fore; one of the beige kittens seems to be pretty mouthy, and the black-orange one seems more independent. This is probably all projection, it will literally be weeks before they are ambulatory enough to display actual personality. What I keep wondering now is, who's your daddy?
The beige cats resemble Mugsy, who although not exactly the George Clooney of the feline set has a decided drive to procreate. There's also a beige cat who lives down the street, not a homeless cat for once, but who has free reign over Eldert Street. But what of the gray kitten? This guy has nothing in common with his mom besides the white undercarriage. Apparently, it is possible for a female cat to have a single litter by more than one father, due to the timing of egg release or something. And given the randy nature of the cats around here, I wouldn't be surprised if this rare feat was achieved here.
It's maddening to think that not only can a cat get pregnant when her last litter is barely out the door (as Stumpy may be!), but after she successfully mates with one male, she could theoretically mate with another dude and still get pregnant! Sheesh.
I'll put up more pictures when the kittens start doing something more interesting.
I don't actually have any update, just wanted an excuse to post another photo. I'm trying to shovel as much food into Lucy as possible, it just doesn't seem like she could produce enough milk for all these kittens, but they seem to be doing fine so far. I guess they don't become really interesting for a couple of weeks, when they can move around and actually exhibit some kind of personality.
I swear I'm trying to think of something non cat-related to post; old habits die hard!
Ironically, the same weekend that Jen succeeded in getting most of her kittens adopted out, Lucy dropped a litter of her own in the closet. I suspected something was up when she was sitting next to me on the couch, acting a little weird. Then I noticed something spilled on the cushion; I assumed I spilled coffee (I pathologically spill coffee all the time). But in retrospect I'm pretty sure her water broke. Cuz right after this, she started staking out a birthing spot. I had set up a box with a towel in the living room, and she did try to go inside it. Sadly, Hubcap was already in it and he didn't want to leave. So she went into our bedroom, which features 4 closet doors to hide behind. She managed to wedge herself behind a box in the far left closet, giving her a space the size of a shoebox to give birth.
By this time I was already in Manhattan, spending the day with my parents, in town for work. We went to the Met, and while we were resting at the museum cafeteria, Jeannie called me up to inform me of kitten birth. She end up having to remove the box just to give Lucy enough room as the kittens kept coming. She eventually replaced it with a smaller box (after ejecting Hubcap from it) which Lucy readily accepted.
So I didn't get to witness this beautiful and gross miracle of life, but from the sound of it, I can't say I mind too terribly. She had 3 kittens in rapid succession, and then after a delay of several hours, had one more. I still can't believe all those cats were inside her! I thought she had another week or two from the look of her, but apparently she had other plans.
So did you know that there's a placenta for each kitten? It's kind of disgusting! Luckily the Moms cut the cords and disposed of everything that wasn't cute and fuzzy. None of the kittens look like her, there are orange tabbies, a gray and white tabby, and a black-orange mottled kitten. It seems odd that none came out in that standard calico-on-white pattern. We were hoping we would be able to tell who the father was by the kittens' markings, but they came out looking like several of the local Casanovas. I did read that it is possible for a female cat to get pregnant by more than one father at a time, but that's pretty rare. I'll have to research more about calico cats; I know about how there are almost no male calicos, but is it a recessive gene or something?
Anyway, now that the furor over Jen's cats is beginning to die down, we can begin taking orders for this batch. So who wants kittens? We're pretty sure that by the time they're ready to ship they will be very social and will be able to do tricks and say 'I love you' in several languages. Be the first kid on your block to own one (or more) of these amazing creatures.
Things seem to be going along okay with Lucy the Pregnant cat so far. I can't tell how far along she is but you can feel the kittens moving around inside, so maybe they're getting antsy to get out?
Cat Meeting
We're trying to decide how involved we want to get with the local cat population, but we found out that there is a mobile spay unit that will actually come out and fix a population of neighborhood cats (provided you have at least 10), which would nicely curtail feline reproduction on our block. But to get to this point we'd have to get the cats to warm up to us more to have a chance of getting them into the Spay-O-Matic. But of course, doing this means feeding all of these cats (instead of just some of them), pretty much for the rest of their lives unless they can be adopted out (which in the case of cats like Mugsy, is pretty unlikely). But maybe it's not that big a deal; indeed, some might argue I've been heading towards this kind of thing for years, why fight it?
All of this stuff is certainly easier to deal with now that it's summer. Winter is the real test, so at least I have some time to decide. Though I sure would like to get these animals fixed ASAP, to avoid the bittersweet heartbreak of More Kittens. Which reminds me, if anybody wants a kitten, head over to north Bushwick and check out Jen's brood. She's got a couple of gray tabbies left to dole out. If however you prefer a calico, just give us a couple weeks and Lucy will produce something to your specifications. If you can't use any new cats, please spread the word to your less web-savvy pals!
Oh, and last night a raccoon showed up in the yard. Think we should adopt it too? And for the record, Mr Bones was suddenly not so tough when this bad boy strolled by.
The back yard has been cleared of offending trees and related debris, but is now lying fallow as I waffle over what I should be planting. My parents suggested I grow "potato vine" over all the chain link fencing, it's what they use in northern California and it seems to grow quickly and cover stuff well. But first of all, I am not at all sure if it's commonly known as 'potato vine' or if that's their cutesy colloquialism for it. I looked it up but there seem to be several plants that sort of sound like it. And secondly, I have no idea if something that grows well in California would stand a chance in the schizophrenic weather patterns of New York. Also I hear they are poisonous, a detriment in a household with cats that chew on stuff they find out back.
I' m also planning window boxes for the front parlor floor, but again I'm at a loss as to what flowers to plant. I'd like to do something more impressive than impatiens this time around, but the more I look into things, the more I understand why I always just used them in the past. They require almost no thought, they continually flower all summer long, and they're not half-bad looking. Maybe that's all I want out of a flowering annual. Anyway, I'll be hitting up all the local nurseries to get some m ore ideas, but if anyone knows of a vine that will cover a fence-type thing in no time, lemme know.
Also in back yard news, the cat parade has more or less stabilized to a set of players that I am attempting to document. So far I count some 8 cats who have been patronizing our home of late, and this isn't even counting Lucy the Pregnant Kitten. I will eventually have photos of all of them, plus short psychological work-ups:
Russian Blue: This is the good-lookin' feller who comes by every so often to strut his stuff. He never wants food, and is apparently not interested in any of our female cats. He is, however, smitten with Hubcap, which is just plain weird.
Mugsy: The scroungy orange tiger who likes to sleep on the ratty blanket in the church yard. He may not win any beauty contests but he seems to have a sweet disposition. Also known as "Fugsly."
Marbles: This is the cat I called Decatur's Boyfriend previously, but she too has turned out to be female. She hasn't been in the back yard but she has been hanging outside the front window. She doesn't appear to be pregnant ... yet.
Russian Blue II: Mysterious cat only seen once in the past week, it may not be a blue, further reports pending. UPDATE: He came back last night and was singing for a while.
Georges: A longhair gray with some white accents (he may be a Nebelung, but he might also just be a longhaired gray cat), he likes to caterwaul to the ladies in the middle of the night. He also approached Mr Bones the other day, singing his heart out, so there may be a problem with his eyesight. You can kind of see him in the below photo.
Tuxedo: Newly noted, this black and white cat was assumed to be male (since most of the others are), but we just realized it's a girl, which partially explains her timidity. Note Georges sitting on the fence behind her.
Flea-Collar Tiger I: The first one we spotted is male and pretty assertive. He looks like a cross between Hubcap and Decatur and made for many frustrating moments when Decatur was lost.
Flea-Collar Tiger II: This one may be female and has more of a leopard-spot coat. I don't know who is putting these flea collars on the neighborhood's street cats but I think it makes people think they are being cared for, which is only true in the sense that there are many garbage bags for them to root through.
And of course, the kitten who we've been calling "Lucy," (pictured at left) she's coming along well, but she just cannot grasp the concept of a litterbox, insisting on going back to the vacant lot at night. Maybe I should fill a litterbox with dirt, gravel and discarded tires. We're not sure how old she is but she must still be pretty young, she doesn't look full-grown yet. Who wants a slightly used kitten?? She will be delivered somewhat thinner than she appears here.
UPDATE: Here's a shot of the back yard yesterday, where at least seven (7) cats are in evidence.
You can't really see Georges or the Russian Blue cat (who is actually outside the fence), but I assure you, they (and possibly others) are indeed out there.
Ugh, the last few days have been miserable, and not just because of the rain. Sometime on Friday night, Decatur slipped out an open front window. We didn't realize it until the next afternoon. We started searching around the area, trying to apply some form of feline logic to the situation. It seemed to me she would have dashed across the street into the vacant lot/parking lot as it is easy to get into and hide. But the more we looked around, the more we realized how many places there are for a small animal to hide. Not the least of these is the church yard behind our house.
At this point we didn't know what window she went through, so we looked out in the back as well. The church has been out of commission for years and the lot (which contains both church, rectory house and driveway) is totally grown over and full of trash. So it's basically a stray cat's amusement park. I searched through it several times, rousting many other cats, but not the one I was looking for.
The circumstances surrounding Decatur's disappearance may shed some light on all this: see, on Friday night we let some cats into the house. One was that Russian Blue cat I spoke of earlier, the other was the Kool-Aid Kitten, who has an even better 'in' to our home: she's pregnant.
Last time Decatur was around a cat with kittens, she bolted and I didn't see much of her for over a month. I didn't know if this was the same situation or if she was really lost; she had never been out front before, and this weekend had been fraught with stuff to scare both cats and humans. Friday night there was some huge to-do down at the far end of the block; we heard what may have been shotgun blasts and soon the street was full of people, cops, ambulance, fire trucks. Not sure what the story was there but it was a bit unsettling. Saturday night as we were entertaining friends with discussions of how Bushwick is really much nicer than its reputation suggests, some dipshit started shooting a gun right outside our house. I'm still not sure what that one was about, I checked outside afterwards but saw no one in evidence, shooter or shootee (the next day the cops came and placed tiny orange cones next to each bullet casing; the bullets had shot out the rear window of an SUV).
So I thought Decatur might have been so spooked by the commotion that she had gotten herself really lost. Anyway, we kept up the searching and the fretting, I made flyers and posted to lost-pet web sites. But things wrapped up pretty much 20 minutes after I put up the flyers.
I noticed the parking lot gate was open, a guy from Luis Refrigeration was changing the tire of his company van, so I went in and asked if it would be okay to look around for the cat. I went to the back of the lot, which was covered with that bamboo-like stuff I so detested from my old back yard, shook a jar of cat treats and called her name. Like it was nothing, Decatur emerged from the underbrush. Just like that.
She was no worse for the wear, despite having been outdoors for all the huge storms of late. the tire-changing guy said that he had seen her sleeping in the cab of one of the trucks that park there. I brought her back inside and she seemed nonplussed to be home. In short, my sympathy levels dropped at light speed. Damn these cats!
Anyway, she's back home and she's being sweet again, so all is well. We have the house on lockdown so nobody's coming in or out for once. We're not sure what to do about the pregnant cat, I'm hoping to relocate her to the backyard, but she seems to be fine with living in the lot across the street. That may be the most ironic aspect of Decatur's sojourn: if she left because she didn't want to share space with the pregnant cat, why then did she move herself to that lot, where the very same cat spends most of her time? This is the logic you get from an animal with a brain the size of a walnut.
I'll have more stuff on the stray population, we have some real characters around here!
One more cat thing to round out the week: when I got home yesterday, the kittens had been moved again. They had already been moved from one closet to another a couple days ago, but now it appeared Lucy had taken them out of the bedroom completely. I searched likely spots throughout the house, finally coming down to the basement. I walked into the band room and found kittens all over the place!
Mother cats move their litters for a variety of reasons. She may have felt the closet was too exposed to potential predators, she may have decided we were futzing with the kittens too much, she may have just been too hot in there and wanted to lie on the cold cement floor of the cellar. But most of all the experience reminded me that cats largely run on autopilot.
So thus, I realized that cats are largely a bundle of instinctive behaviors and not necessarily the caring and thoughtful mothers we want to believe they are. As of 8AM they were still in the closet but who knows where they'll be when I get home. I am hoping they can be relocated to the room next to our bedroom, it's the room we use the least, except as pass-through to the other rooms, we just have to put some barriers up so the kittens don't spill out.
The back yard has been cleared of offending trees and related debris, but is now lying fallow as I waffle over what I should be planting. My parents suggested I grow "potato vine" over all the chain link fencing, it's what they use in northern California and it seems to grow quickly and cover stuff well. But first of all, I am not at all sure if it's commonly known as 'potato vine' or if that's their cutesy colloquialism for it. I looked it up but there seem to be several plants that sort of sound like it. And secondly, I have no idea if something that grows well in California would stand a chance in the schizophrenic weather patterns of New York. Also I hear they are poisonous, a detriment in a household with cats that chew on stuff they find out back.
And of course, the kitten who we've been calling "
Last time Decatur was around a cat with kittens, she bolted and I didn't see much of her for over a month. I didn't know if this was the same situation or if she was really lost; she had never been out front before, and this weekend had been fraught with stuff to scare both cats and humans. Friday night there was some huge to-do down at the far end of the block; we heard what may have been shotgun blasts and soon the street was full of people, cops, ambulance, fire trucks. Not sure what the story was there but it was a bit unsettling. Saturday night as we were entertaining friends with discussions of how Bushwick is really much nicer than its reputation suggests, some dipshit started shooting a gun right outside our house. I'm still not sure what that one was about, I checked outside afterwards but saw no one in evidence, shooter or shootee (the next day the cops came and placed tiny orange cones next to each bullet casing; the bullets had shot out the rear window of an SUV).
So I thought Decatur might have been so spooked by the commotion that she had gotten herself really lost. Anyway, we kept up the searching and the fretting, I made flyers and posted to lost-pet web sites. But things wrapped up pretty much 20 minutes after I put up the flyers.
Anyway, she's back home and she's being sweet again, so all is well. We have the house on lockdown so nobody's coming in or out for once. We're not sure what to do about the pregnant cat, I'm hoping to relocate her to the backyard, but she seems to be fine with living in the lot across the street. That may be the most ironic aspect of Decatur's sojourn: if she left because she didn't want to share space with the pregnant cat, why then did she move herself to that lot, where the very same cat spends most of her time? This is the logic you get from an animal with a brain the size of a walnut.
