Kitten chow

There are kittens on the third floor of my apartment building, and I'm not entirely sure that the owners aren't eating them.

A few weeks ago cats were yowling all over Hanoi, and every cat that crossed my path seemed to be pregnant. Then I discovered a cageful of kittens as I walked downstairs on my way to work, and now I reserve an extra ten minutes of my day cooing over their cuteness.

That is, when I'm not chased away by their hissing demoncat mother. Of course, there's no way she can know that I'm just a sucker for kitties, and that I'm not out to chow down on her babies. Her owners, on the other hand...are very nice people and I'm a terrible person for thinking that they might eat kittens. The other day, I had just gotten back from an evening shift at VTV, and was debating whether to eat instant noodles, or make the extra effort to class up the ramen with a poached egg. Enter the kindly cat owner who whisked me off into her apartment, served me dinner and scolded me over not dressing warmly enough. Then she shooed me out the door with a bag of oranges, ramen, and some menthol salve for my cough.

I really like her and her adorable son, who's eighteen but looks twelve. It's just that a few days ago there were six kittens, and then there were less, and today there were two. Definitely just two. The family could just be giving the kittens away, but as far as I can tell, the kittens have yet to be weaned. Early adoption, or domestic livestock? Maybe here it's not so different from keeping chickens for their eggs. I have seen signs advertising cat meat, though it's much rarer than dog meat.

I hope there are still two kittens when I get back tonight.