do kittens dream?

I'm returning to the blog after a few days away, so that can really only mean one thing, can't it?

KITTEN UPDATE time!

Let's start with a quick question that arose while looking through the latest family snaps. The fluffy sausages, bundled up in a line, all seem to have genuine expressions on their faces, wouldn't you say?

If that's so, does it mean they're dreaming? Do kittens dream? And what (apart from how great it must be to have a name.. a'hem!) about? Would it simply be a reliving of their very limited experiences (sucking teats, pushing through soft fur, treading on toes, getting licked, trying to focus on yellow towelling..) or are they pre-primed with visions of flappy birds and stealthy little mice hovering just within reach? Maybe they dream of writing a novel or plunging the oceans in search of long-forgotten shipwrecks? Does anybody know? I'd love to hear your thoughts :)

Our trio are now twelve days old and growing fast.  All of them can open their eyes, but the only one who seems to do it convincingly or at all often is Ginger. She's still curious, Fred's still rather small, and NoName Fluffball's tummy is still getting nice and fat. Here's a video of them waking up from a snooze and having a wash:

and here's a bit of rough and tumble over feeding time:

Not too much changes very quickly round here, but it's definite progress that the neighbours have stopped talking about the need to commit despicable acts (did I tell you about that? No? Well, I'm not sure you'd really want to hear it... but if I'm feeling dark someday, I might fill you in), and now come over asking for a peek. And they smile when they see the brood.  Which, believe me, is a welcome relief. 

As for us, well, we're discovering just how much cat food it's possible to get through in a week.  And Agatha and Charlie are discovering how cool it is when we run out.  Because then we have to give them smoked salmon and real tinned tuna instead, you see.  Hard times.

I sometimes wonder, guiltily, if this superior diet and more regular feeding (we don't dare give him cause for jealousy) are contributing to Cheeky Charlie's inflated sense of self.  He is positively lording it over the other cats in the bairro, and when he isn't to be found sunning himself and surveying the world in a kingly fashion from an elevated vantage point, chances are he's terrorising a 'lesser' moggy, having trapped it in some inescapable corner or other.

And he still won't let us stroke him.

The battle to show Cheeky Charlie what love is goes on.

And on.

Well, we do like a challenge ;)

Incidentally, what's a girl to do for comments and votes round here, huh?

This little Piggy-in-the-middle needs a name!

And there are only 3 days left to vote (& 2 votes registered - have pity!)

The poll can be found at the top of the blog's right-hand column.

We'll leave it there for now, but don't go thinking you're off the hook until you've done your bit!