Fergus and Freya arrive

The day that we’d been anticipating for weeks arrived today. We drove to Inverness to pick up our new croft kittens, Fergus and Freya.

They’re so small! They’re eight weeks old and fully weaned, but no photos quite prepare you for the size and fragility of these little creatures. Our hearts melted as soon as we saw them.

They spent the long journey in their carrier in the back of the car singing the song of their people. Clearly confused and frightened by their new environment and being away from their mother for the first time.

Poor Fergus was trembling, and Freya – the loud, more confident of the pair – was squeaking volubly. We got them home and they shot into the gap between the dryer and the cupboard units in the utility room to hide.

Husband found them wedged in behind the dryer. Clearly plan A, which was to house them in the utility room for a bit until they were used to us was not going to work until we’d managed to cat-proof it a little better, so we moved them into the boot room with their food, toys and kitty litter.

We want them to be used to being handled, so we bundled them up in their blankets and cradled them until they slept. Still babies, the warmth of another being was what they needed, and we got raspy-tonged little cat licks and a brief purr before bedtime. They slowly relaxed and eyes gradually closed until they were curled up and asleep.

Sleep lasted only about ten minutes until they awoke again and started play fighting. It’s good that they have each other for familiarity and company.

We’ve loved our first few hours with them.