There are lots of springtime things going on here. Blue is scheduled to be shod Friday, and then my horseback rides through the countryside can commence.
I knew we had kittens in the barn, but until today I had never heard them mewing or been able to find them. Fudge suddenly got skinny about a week-and-a-half ago, and I could see she was being nursed. We've never been sure whether Snowbelle was pregnant or not; she's long-haired, and tends to be chubby anyhow.
So when I traced the mewing to the space under the stanchion where I used to milk my cow, of course I assumed all these kittens belonged to Fudge: Their eyes were open and all. But every time I'd try to get close enough to take a picture, Snowbelle would squeeze in, acting worried.
"How sweet," I thought. "She's helping Fudge take care of her babies."
About the third time I peeked in, I realized we had two sizes of kittens... and that some did not have their eyes open. Snowbelle must have figured if that spot was good enough for Fudge, it was good enough for her.
There might be problems with this: It's possible the older kittens might take all the milk from both mothers, to the detriment of the newborns. But in the country life scheme of things, we let these situations take care of themselves.
Time will tell.