This morning I got up bright and early to inspect my new roommates. I eagerly jumped out of bed as soon as daylight entered my shack, because I am pretty excited about them.

I am not sure how many kittens there are. I counted five in the morning, but I got to six later in the day, but only five again toward evening. My confusion arises from the fact that they look almost exactly alike. They lie all in a heap at the mother's belly, glued to her nipples and holding on for dear life - dear is exactly what life is for them, as well as for their mother. I cannot tell exactly where one ktten ends and the other begins. They are too jumbled together to tell them apart.

The mother is all black. I watched her "casting fur", as we call it back in West Virginia, with a grey-striped tom a few weeks ago. They did this noisily outside my window, in a field next to my shack. Their love-making went on for several hours - an admirable and joyous feat, really. Cats do seem to like sex. The kittens look like this tom. None resembles his or her mother. The father is nowhere to be seen. He might not even know that he has become a father, not to mention helping his sometime girlfriend to bring his kittens up or taking pride in them.

The kittens have miniature feline faces, but their bodies look more like those of mice. Their faces are actually more like caricatures of cat's faces; they have tiny ears, not in the same proportion to their faces as those of adult cats. Their tails are also small. The kittens' hair seems thin. Their legs, especially on the inside, look pink, because I see the skin through the hair. Their bellies are also pink. Tiny claws peak through their paws. These claws are like little needles; I hope they did not cause the mother pain while inside her womb, which is where they were only hours ago.

The kittens move their limbs to propel themselves to their mother's nipples in a kind of swimming motion. Their legs seem stiff, as if they cannot control them. What impresses me most about these kittens is how willful they are. These little bundles of life are determined to eat.

Their eyes are closed. I hope their noses are as well, because they live among my dirty socks - not the best aroma to smell first in this world. I hope my socks do not tramatize them for life.

The mother spent the whole night and day with them, not venturing out of my dirty laundry at all until evening. She often licks them, licking especially their pink behinds with great emphasis. The force of her licking pushes them around. I gave the mother another can of sardines, and I poured more water into the empty can I gave her last night. I refilled her water several times today. She seems thirsty. I do not want her to have to leave them to go out hunting for food.

The mother looks ecstatic, with that pleased look of infinite joy and wisdom that makes cats so holy. She purrs constantly, occasionally interrupting herself with that "MMMM" sound cats make when the world is smiling at them. The kittens burst out with a high-pitched squeak when looking for a nipple. This happens because the mother sometimes moves to another part of my laundry. She changes sides. When she does so, the kittens swim after those nipples.

The mother stares at me when I go over to see how she is doing. She no longer jumps onto my lap or into my bed for a hug and a massage as she did; she has other duties now. She does lean her head back for me to rub her under the chin, though.

Around sunset the mother asked me to let her out. When she wants out, she looks at the door and meeows. I suspect she had to perform earthly functions. She left when the kittens were sound asleep, returning after about a quarter of an hour. I spent the time sitting in the chair I put next to the nest, so that I can scan the cats and the kittens while reading things not online. I am tempted to move the whole box with the kittens in it next to my desk where my computer is, so I can watch them all day, but I overcome this temptation. The family probably wants to be alone it their corner.