I had the opportunity, a couple of days ago, of carrying around a basketful of just-a-few-days-old kittens. Five of them. They were the tiniest things I'd ever seen. I mean, I knew baby puppies, kittens, piglets, etc. are small when newly-born, but I had never realized just *how* small. And yes, they were incredibly cute. Not just in the miniaturized-version-of-a-bigger-thing way (hey! I *am* an engineer!), but also because of that evolved baby-animal strategy of endearing themselves to adults and provoking nurturing feelings and thereby facilitating survival by having heads and eyes disproportionately larger than the rest of their bodies and by emitting those plaintive, woebegone cries. (Yes, I am a scientist, too.) We adults are such suckers. :)
I had to carry that basket (which otherwise could have passed off as a small laundry hamper) through a study lounge full of hard-at-work students --- and in a building on campus in which I'm quite sure pet animals are not allowed. (Shhh!) The first time, on the way in, the kittens behaved. On the way out, though, they didn't. (And just so you know, their heads weren't the only things larger than you'd expect. Their voices were, too.) And everybody, oh just evvvverybody knew I had kittens in the basket.
I couldn't stop grinning.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
When I was growing up, we used to have stray pregnant cats "adopt" our house as a place to have their kittens. I guess since there were so many kids around (I'm one of nine), they felt it was safe from predators. My mother would let them come inside to actually give birth to their kittens, and then they had the run of the house. On time, I had three litters born in my bedroom in a one-week timespan.
Wow!
... Wait.. a house full of *nine* kids running around is a "safe" place to have your babies?
Post a Comment