a wolf angel is not a good angel

I’m giving her the pills, which she seems to continue to despise. But needs must, etc. I’m also making her baby food, which she eats, in small doses. She’s supposed to have 30 ml a day (though of the liquidy stuff that I can forcefeed her), and I’ve seen her eat and there is no way she gets anything near that. (I wonder if Baby Blue needs a kitten.) So I am forcing some other stuff in her, but I have a 3ml dropper, which means that I am supposed to forcefeed her ten times a day, so more or less hourly while I’m home. Today I did it 3.5 times, and I hope that she ate enough calories (not through nursing, cause she seems unable to find her nipple anymore). She’s all runty (not growing like the others) and ribby (hidden by her long fur, but still) and just insufficiently playful. Her fur is soft and shiny, and her eyes are bright and her nose is cold, and I hope that the pills and the extra food (which all the cats love — rice pablum and baby chicken food, sure, why not, smells much better than cat food) will do enough. Poor baby.

But, as you see, this means she needs a name.

So it’s Name That Foster Kitten day! She’s a dark tabby, mostly solid on the body, long hair, slightly flat face, indistinct eye colour.

(Photos taken by someone else.)

My favourite of the little kittens was sick, and I took her to the vet today. She has what Dr Google said, coccidia, which means mostly that she has diarrhea. So she’s a little less active, a little less big — and a little at risk, because diarrhea, for a small little thing like her, is dangerous. (As it is for people, too. This is also something that can infect the other kittens, but will not infect adult cats with proper immune systems.) I’m giving her some sort of pill (she has LOTS of strength to fight that, mostly biting and clawing me and squirming out of the towel she was held in), but I did not have time to go grocery shopping for rice pablum and baby food for her today — tomorrow! first thing! — and so I am hoping she will be ok for another couple of hours, because I’m not entirely sure she’s eating, and mama cat refuses to nurse the kittens anymore. (Which I didn’t know until recently.) She didn’t want a kitty treat. I’ll leave out some wet cat food, though I doubt she’ll go for it. (Nor am I sure it’s a brilliant move, but I *am* sure that her not eating is bad — update: she’s eating the wet cat food, which makes me relieved. I even have a dropper to force feed her if need be.)

Alas, this photo is not one I took.

The reason I made an apple cake? (I made it again later, with the apples this time.)

Apple picking! Down near the NY border.

(more…)

in the Plateau.

The mother is very friendly, purrful, and seems to be letting Matilda be alpha cat. The kittens — still an undifferentiated mass of fuzz — are stumbly when they walk, squeaky instead of meowy, and some of them are happy to be petted.

Litter box is going to be fun. (They’re all trained, thankfully.)

Other animals from this week later, but the poor uncombed kitty!

Apparently he was adopted, though, before I got his pictures up.

Or I *finally* started volunteering at the SPCA.

After all the jumps and balconies and dollar store plants . . . would it have been worth while to have bitten off the matter with a smile?

Matilda clearly says yes. Next up: does she dare to eat a peach (pie)?

Especially because you’re so beautiful when doing that. (Used my friend’s card reader. Still searching for mine.)