All Right Now…Kitties, Redux!
It’s been a while since I posted anything about Chime, and her surviving kitten, Leopard. Leopard is now three months old, and hell on wheels, sort of the Indian version of Dennis the Menace. If she were ever featured in a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon, she would play Calvin. To Leopard’s credit, she’s also a bug-eating mouse-catcher, a wonderful cat to have in an area where the variety and tenacity of the insect life is truly amazing. The bugs
here deserve a post all to themselves. Meantime Chime has been weaning Leopard, snarling and batting at the little cat whenever she came around to play or nurse.
So, anyway….did I mention that Chime had gotten pregnant again, apparently right after having the last litter? No? My bad. If my understanding of feline reproduction is correct, she went right back out and got knocked up only a few days after bringing Tiger, Leopard, and Smoke into the world. The marauding tomcat who was such a nightmare before has not been around for weeks, so I’m guessing he’s the babydaddy this time around. Egad, it’s
almost like being back in Inglewood, this situation.
As time passed, Chime got bigger, and lumpier, and slower, and her face took on more and more of that uncomfortable-pregnant-female look that is not exclusive to the human species.
Last night, Chime took up residence on top of an armoire, meowing and complaining the whole time. This morning I got up to the peep-peep-peep-scuffle-scuffle sounds of new kitty life. Chime had camped out in Joy’s bright red Swiss Army duffle bag for the big event. I suppose I could turn this whole thing into a testimonial for Victorinox products.
Looking at the kittens, I realized I was stumped for names. “Chime” just means cat in Tibetan. I could name one kitten “Bille”, which is cat in Hindi; but what would the other one be called? The other kitties were named after animals, except for poor little Smoke. Both the new kitties look exactly like Chime, which isn’t real surprising. Most cats in this part of India are a variation of grayish-brown tabby, a color scheme obviously evolved over the centuries to blend in with the stones and dirt of the landscape,
like so:
It was one of those before-coffee moments. Two little tabby babies who look just like Mom, one a grayish brown, one a brownish-gray. Hm. I looked down at the clumsy little furballs, and proclaimed them to be:
Sandy and Dusty.
Huh. Maybe a bit more coffee…
Welcome to the kits! If there’s a next time around, according to some friends of mine from South Dakota, Igamoo means cat in Ogalalla. They have wicked senses of humor so perhaps I was calling my cat a bad word for years?
Comment by Sylvia | June 25, 2007
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww! (melting from cuteness[the kittens’, not my own…])
Comment by alfred | June 25, 2007
Sylvia: if you’re looking for bad words, try this URL:
Hindi Swear Words and Their English Translation
http://www.insultmonger.com/swearing/hindi.htm
According to this page, I could call the kitties “Chut” and “Pucchi”, but the neighbors would never talk to me again.
Comment by admin | June 25, 2007
Nyondo, I so enjoy your moment to moment accounts of Rewalsar life, and the intimacy, peace, beauty, and luminosity of your photographs.
Maybe someday you can take us on a photography walk around the lake…
Just after sunset here in Santa Fe, New Mexico, there was a light drizzle, continuously rolling thunder and distant light flashes to the east and south, patches of magically pink clouds nearby, with a complete faint pinkish rainbow arc from east to west.
Love, Rich
Comment by Rich Murray | June 27, 2007
Runt says hello! Can I play– Pippi is still Pippi. Baby gurl and Baby are still spoiled. Baby is fixed. I am doing OK. How are you? Love Shdiva
Comment by Shdiva | October 15, 2007