I had forgotten how much work tiny kittens are. Pip and Scrat are only eight weeks old, so they are just barely old enough to be away from their mother. They are litter box trained, but they need help remembering sometimes. We are learning to recognize the signs that they have to go so we can make sure they get there in time. It's kind of like potty-training a toddler! Pip has not quite learned the difference between flesh and food. I tried to hand feed him a treat, and he took a huge chomp on my finger, drawing blood and all. It hurts. But no worries. He has had his shots, and I washed and Neosporin-ed it. And I promise not to limp. :-) They have antibiotics for a "kitty cold" that we give them twice a day. They hate it, and I hate having to force their mouths open. Pip, we think, has some kind of feline ADHD--he runs EVERYWHERE and can't focus on any one thing for more than a few seconds. Scrat is very lovey. He will crawl up your leg just to be close. He "knows his mummy" (as Hagrid says of Norbert). I walked into the downstairs bathroom, and Scrat tried to follow me. He ran past the doorway, and stopped. I said, "Hey, Scrat, I'm in here!" He turned and came right up to me and started climbing up my pant leg. He also does what I call the "Sophie dive." My niece Sophie buries her face in your neck to show affection. Scrat does this also. He loves climbing on my shoulders and rubbing against my neck and face.
Through the process of adopting kittens from a shelter rather than getting them free from someone, I've felt so good about giving orphans a good home. Four kittens were together in one small cage. Scrat and Pip are so obviously happy to have so much space and to have love like they never had in the shelter. I felt better about bringing these kittens into a good home than I ever did when we took kittens directly from their mothers. I appreciate humane societies more now than ever before.