Smell like a Goat....

I have entered the room and like little birds the mouths open and the chirping begins. Mee!! Mee! Feed Me! Grabbing up a squirming hairball I attempt with one hand to hold it still and with the other to wedge the nipple against the roof of the tiny mouth which is snapping in eagerness. Small claws have dug into my index finger and I've missed the mark. Let the Chewing Begin!! Never mind the nipple its gone right for the cap on the bottle and I must now extract the entire nipple & ring from somewhere in the region of its tonsils and start again, but I've lost my grip on its body so now its got claws sunk in my wrists, another set waving frantically, a death grip on the nipple with the little daggers in its mouth, its growling, and the bottle has a vacuum lock.

It weighs….13 ounces ….and its winning.

At some point in the ensuing battle after I’ve poked it in the eye with the bottle and been bitten a time or two the vacuum breaks the kitten drinks, milk dribbling out and for a few seconds all is right with the world. Ahhh…Food Glorious Food!!....

There is the ‘smart one’ that latches on with ferocity and sucks madly. The bottle drains, the tummy fills, there is ‘the Chomper’ snapping at everything fingers included, the clueless – ‘Arrgh! Get away, what is it? Oh gimmi!!’, each personality different in its approach to being fed. Finally… 20 minutes later....

The little tummy is round. The furred Pear burps, purrs and is laid softly amongst its siblings to nap. I, battle weary, covered with ‘paper cuts’ from toes to ankles (from the little claws eager for their turn), a bitten finger or two and smelling like a goat check the clock…and in 4 hours we get to do it again!!