W-wa Jeziorki: Sterilised.

Well, that's it. Wenusia's back from the vets, sterilised. No more kittens for her. Pregnancy will no longer bother her, nor will rogue tomcats. At least she has fulfilled herself in motherhood, bringing into the world five fine and healthy kittens. Would you believe, she was still breastfeeding them right until the last hours before being taken to the vet, although somewhat grudgingly. On her return home, she would get up on the table and sit with her head hanging down over the edge, not moving at all, just shaking. But after a few hours, she was clearly much better.

The challenge for me will be keeping Wenusia in the house for another six days. When not sleeping or eating, she is crying to be let out, which I cannot do. And the coming challenge will be sterilising the kittens as they reach six months. The vet has asked me to pop round early in the New Year.

In the meantime, Wenusia is refusing to let me put on her post-op kaftan, kicking it off at every attempt. But then she is neither licking her wound nor biting at the stitches. Below: this morning (having slept the night in her birthing box. She is now at ease and jumping around everywhere – testament to a strong organism. I examine the stitches – on the surface, it seems that the operation has been carefully and neatly done; very precise work.

Below: this evening. At least six more days inside. The kittens had their fill of sunshine outside this afternoon. While they were out, Wenusia has had some extra-special treats today, including tuna from a jar and Greek yogurt. She has been the perfect mother, but that's that. Just the one shot at motherhood, which worked out marvellously for all concerned. The kittens have been very kind, and not bothering her in the least. And Wenusia continues her habit of letting her children eat first, eating only when the five have had their fill.

Below: neither Scrapper nor Céleste look amused by Czestuś's Elon Musk impression.

Who would have thought that I'd be sharing my 68th birthday with six cats? Quite amazing what life puts your way. They are all wonderful – I could not contemplate parting with a single one of them.

Below: the way they were, aged three days. From the left we have Arcturus, Pacyfik, Céleste, Scrapper and Czestuś.

Today, at the age of 16 weeks, they are a unit, a tightly knit bunch of pals; they troop around together outside, fighting, playing, grooming one another, eating, sleeping. Such social bonds are there to be preserved. They have (I believe) a quality of life unmatched by, say, an individual cat living its entire life bereft of feline company in a small apartment on the eighth floor, or farm cats, living a semi-ferally without a warm room on a winter’s night or regular food. Are my cats aware of how fortunate they are? Possibly! They are all well-balanced socially, in contact with their human – the same human – since the moment they were born; safe in a familiar environment, they sleep where they were born, they play with their littermates, their mother is around them, and life is good. Bonds unbroken since birth.

UPDATE 5 October: would you believe Wenusia continues to breastfeed? Not all the kittens at the same time, but if one or two approach her and suckle from the top nipples rather than the ones by her operation scars, she will not push them away!

This time last year:
A comfortable life – and then what?

This time two years ago:
The Ego, the Soul and the Individual

This time three years:
In which I reach the Age of Maturity

This time four years ago:
Golden Autumn, Golden Years

This time five years ago:
Last embers of summer

This time six years ago:
It's that Day of the Year again!

This time seven years ago:

Decline and growth

This time eight years ago:
Health at 60