Before I found Iggy, I signed up for 5 days in Elbasan for training-of-trainers in Life Skills, which meant I had to be separated from my kitten for 5 days and 4 nights. I left him with my host family, Donika and Berti for the week and showed all my friends the adorable pictures on my digital camera.
When I came back, I went to my host family’s door right away and brought my kitten in his box back up to his room. He was doing just fine, though his little paws were awfully chilly. I filled him up a fresh hot water bottle, and he hopped up on it to warm up his feet. I had often seen him snuggling up to the bottle like it was his mama, but to see him fully standing on top of it was unusual.
Next I gave him some formula and he demanded cuddle time. In fact, he basically commandeered my hand and made a ritual out of claiming it as his own. My host family had taken good care of him, but nonetheless he’d missed me and was happy to see me again.
I think it was only late afternoon on Friday when I came home—I might be mistaken about the day of the week, but I’m fairly sure it was Friday evening that I gave Iggy his first solid food.
Due to the way I held him down while syringe-feeding, I was afraid that Iggy would not know how to handle himself when presented with food on a plate. I was afraid that the repeated ritual of holding him on his back with his head grasped firmly in my hand had messed up his sense of the way eating was supposed to happen.
Yeah, well, he did just fine that night.
Here he is, a little more dignified.
And this is the infamous happy-to-see-Foster-Mommy shot. It appears that I was not shaving my forearms that Spring, but anyway. Iggy was all pleased with himself for getting his paws on my hand again. I took this picture while lying on my stomach on the floor. In case you were wondering.