The nursery diary

Every kitten in the nursery has their eyes open now, and with that the first hints of character have started to arrive. They are moving properly too — wriggling, shuffling, rolling over one another and pushing up onto legs that do not entirely agree with the plan yet. All of it is muscle being built, which is exactly what this fortnight is for.

One of them is having a slower start than the rest. Blue Collar has not been putting on weight as quickly as his littermates, so we are concentrating on his health and doing everything we can to help him catch the others up. We would far rather say that out loud than leave it unsaid.

They arrived in the second week of September and the house has not been quiet since. At this age a kitten is not much more than a warm weight in the palm of your hand: eyes still shut, ears still folded down, entirely occupied with finding milk and staying close to somebody warm.

Both mothers are doing beautifully. The cream and cinnamon babies are already the noisy ones, and there is a black kitten in a mint collar who has worked out the fastest route to the front of the queue. We weigh everybody daily and write it all down, which is the least romantic and most important part of the whole job.