I’ve just discovered it’s quite difficult to take photos of the cats at 4 months because they are either asleep or dashing about. We are surprised to have got them to this age without them being run over on the road, eaten by our neighbour’s mastiff or lost in the drainage tunnels.
Benedict is still the clever one. Quiet but cunning. He’s the one who is fitted with the battery which keeps going when the others have stopped.
Blanche is the pretty one. Petite like her mother with a tiny miaow. She has dark almond shaped eyes and, although independent, has started seeking out Chris’s lap.
Smudge is the big one, quite thick set and fluffy. She is the domestic one. She finds the dustpan and brush fascinating, and always comes to help with cleaning or gardening. She has a very loud purr and throws herself down in front of you to be stroked.
Claude is the nice but dim one. He has an incredibly loud miaow. If you shut the kittens outside he will sit on the terrasse looking pathetic and howl to be let in. When you open the door a crack the other three rush out of hiding and force their way in.
I had always wondered how they could all be so different until I read that when the female cat is in season she will go round every tomcat she can find. With each she will release an egg so by the time she has finished she might have a litter of kittens that each have a different father. This genetic variety helps their survival. I have seen a tom that looks like Benedict, and another like Claude. And a local feral cat which is black has also produced two white kittens so there must be a white tom around.