Our two young cats laid next to me on the couch yesterday, Jackson gently licking Jed’s head, each twin rumbling with contented purring in the comfort of each other’s arms. They seemed to revel in their deep sense of kinship, in the constancy of molecular connection since their dawn of time in the womb.
Being in the presence of snoozing kittens offers a peaceful calm like no other. My heart-rate lowers. My breath steadies. My thoughts come clearly… until that moment when, with mad ninja skills, Jackson wraps his white mitts (to avoid leaving incriminating paw prints) around Jed’s neck and exacts a choke hold. He sinks his razor sharp teeth into Jed’s moistened skull, a spot he had carefully prepared just moments prior. As 40 knives emerge from 8 fuzzy paws, back feet thump and kick. Jed tries to wriggle away but manages a mere body twist. His opponent braces his head firmly in place for one more tasty chomp.
The squabble is over as quickly as it begins. Muscles relax (my own included), nails retract, licking and purring resume. All is right with the world once more.
Yesterday gave a bit of a surprise, however. As the the gentle kneading of 8 paws left subtle pin pricks in my thigh, I shifted for comfort. That’s when something above Jed’s eye caught my own. It was smooth on one side, jagged on the other and had the finish of polished ivory. I picked it up for a closer look. Jackson had lost a baby tooth… in his brother’s forehead.
My babies are growing up.
And so it goes, this love/hate relationship between brothers. In their first hours home from the shelter (I can’t beleive it’s been nearly a month since), these kittens had us fooled. They were sniffly, sneezey, exhausted from the day’s events, sweet, innocent and needy as could be. Day 2 brought to light quite another story. I’ve captured some of their first week’s bi-polar behavior for your entertainment. Cheers to an upcoming neuter!