One of Christine's adopted strays turned out to be preggers. Very
preggers.
We weren't sure who the father was, so many options- There's "Big
Yellow Headed Kitty", there's the mostly white with black spots cat
from next door, there's Tiger (Sabina's father, ew.) and there's
Tomás, all of whom are in the running.
Christine's solid black cat Spamy put in
the effort a few times, but he's out of the running because he's been
fixed. What can I say? Sabina's a friendly cat.
Tomás in his swanky waterproof bachelor pad:
Notice his white markings.
When the first kitten emerged, it was clearly from Tomás. So were the
others in turn.
Mom resting comfortably after hours of labor. Three (?) Kittens?
Eating eating eating:
Señor Tomás brings a celebratory offering.
I suppose this is a cat's version of a cigar and a martini.
Once it had been duly admired, and he had been praised, and he
confirmed that I wasn't interested in partaking, Tomás finished the
rest of the crunchy yummy.
(Tomás is a brutally efficient hunter. Catch, kill & eat. I'm hoping nobody writes in to tell me this is some sort of rare Echo Park Riparian Desert Rat.)
In the morning, the kittens (now 4) are plump and sleeping like tiny
logs.
Once they dried out and fluffed up, it became apparent that they
weren't black and white like Tomás, they were tiger striped like mom,
but with Tomás's white markings.
Sabina comes out for some quality time, and spends it grooming
Christine.
More sleeping kitties:
It's hard to see just how small they are without reference. Here's my
hand for scale:
Early morning Christine and the happy father:
Sadie watches all:
Señor Tomás aka T-bone aka Mr. T lives on the porch when it's
raining. The rest of the time he's out ratting or surveying his kingdom.
Great cat. I'm happy they're his. Looks like Sallie's going to take one.
Late breaking news is that "The Milk Brothers" are also in the running for possible paternity, but since their white tips are significantly smaller than Tomás's, our money is still on Tomás. Plus, he brought the "gift" on the night of delivery, doesn't that make him the official dad? This is all so confusing. Apparently this section of Echo Park is some sort of cat vortex with billions of fertile males. I can't imagine why that is. Couldn't have anything to do with the catfood on the porch... ;)
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