WARNING: Do not read this post if you are allergic to adorableness.
We’ve been fostering a mother cat for the past few weeks, and last night she gave birth to six healthy mini mews.
It’s hard to get a good shot of them where their box is positioned, but Sis managed to take some decent ones, as you can see.
It’s amazing how little they looked like cats when they were born. They resembled Gollum more than they did their mother. And they’re still so feeble, and blind. And precious. And one day they’ll grow up and make someone laugh by chasing a toy mouse, or make someone proud by hunting a real one. And they’ll scratch the sofa and knock things off the counter, but they’ll snuggle up to their owners and purr contendly, and sleep, and be forgiven for how crazy they are.
There’s some sort of poetic metaphor here, but I’ll have to think about it some more.
I’ll catch you later, folks, but I’ll leave you with this little lullaby that popped in my YouTube playlist just now. Peace to you all. God bless you. 🙂