Last night Farmmom came in when she got home from Eldest Nephew's baseball game and said "Come help me find these crying kittens."
Turns out, momma cat had apparently moved them into the shed and then headed out on her own, and promptly got squished on the highway in front of the house.
So we now have four kittens just old enough to start getting teeth. They're not super feral, though they're not all that sure they like people, they have already made the association that we have food.
As I type this they're in one of the smaller kennels next to my chair, telling me that they would like to be somewhere else now thank you very much. However, I have no intention of searching every tiny nook in the house for kittens every ten minutes for fear they've gotten stuck somewhere. They get out and get attention and play time (supervised) but until they're a little more used to us and a little bigger (which won't take long) so that they can't fit somewhere I couldn't get my hand to get em out, they'll spend most of their downtime in the kennel.
So far, their personalities are only showing in noise level and appreciation of petting. The runt is a tiny little black thing with an itty bitty mew and has been one of the first to rub back against a petting hand. Two more black ones about the same size, one quieter who isn't sure about this whole petting thing and one that seems to think that every sound out of it's mouth is a dreadful curse word that must be said at the top of his lungs (I think I'll name that one after Stingray. )
And last, a little dove grey fluffball that is most likely to stay in the kennel when the door is opened (meanwhile it's siblings are hanging on the kennel door and ride it open, after which I have to peel them off to set them on the floor or they'll try to climb over the top) and not really sure about this petting thing but the warm of a lap is pretty ok.
No photos, yet. They're dirty and covered in milk and soft food, and haven't quite mastered the art of cleaning themselves well enough yet, and I want them to get settled in and let their stress levels go down quite a bit before I subject them to a bath, so the most they've gotten is a quick wipe with a wet washcloth. So they're pretty raggedy looking, at the moment. More pathetic than cute. Rest assured though, photos will follow.
This time, at least, it's not my fault that we have orphans. I'm sort of enjoying that part.