One becomes five

I've had a relapse. I haven't touched a kitten for 14 years, honest, but today I was right back there, hanging over the basket dog bed where they were born yesterday evening, snuffling the musky odour of milk and motherhood, listening to the squeaks and chirrups as they fought to nourish themselves and marvelling all over again at the tenacity with which the tiny things latch on, helpless and fragile but programmed to maximise the odds on survival come what may.

There are four of them: one ginger and the rest very dark tabby and black. Nest was a bit overwhelmed by their arrival but has turned into the perfect mother. The dog is having to make do with his spare bed.

Excuse me I just have to go and stick my face in there one more time...