Circle M Farm

Bauble has done it. Climbed, or tumbled, really, out of the storage-shelf nest where her mother carried all five kittens a few weeks ago. Now she follows mama Globule, whom she looks almost exactly like, around the garage fighting wool bunnies and scary shadows and the legs on chairs all day long.

The first day out she really must have fallen the two feet from the cozy wool fluff nest the kittens have kneaded into felt. But since then, Jake, my 15-year-old, has been assembling a complicated ramp contraption so that wherever the kittens choose to emerge from the shelf, they’ll have an easy way down and back up. Jake’s also been surreptitiously sneaking the kittens one-by-one outside to introduce them to the dogs and let them practice walking under his supervision.

Jake’s crazy kitten ramparts.

All the kittens have made it down the ramps now, though Globule gathers them up and puts them back in the nest several times a day. She seems quite relaxed, however, when they are crawling around the nooks and crannies of the garage. Some are steadier on their feet than others, though they all still walk crouched pretty low to the ground. Mostly they take a few steps, mew, and go running toward the nearest anything – a bag of feed, a human foot, a pile of laundry. They clearly are leery of open spaces. As they should be. It’s easy to lose track of where they are all underfoot, and I’ve nearly stepped on one several times.

Bauble is the most precocious kitten in the bunch.