Bottle-fed at home.
The two cubs had been born in captivity, and the plan was to raise them for about six months in a human foster home so they could be handled more easily.
They were siblings, one female, one male, as adorable as they were fluffy. Picture perfect with big heads, really big paws and tiny teeth.
We had set up a sleeping area in the living room, old pillows, a couple of discarded blankets, fit for further shredding by the cubs.
Our cats had accepted the newcomers well. Mo, the smart black female cat instantly adopted the cubs as her babies. An hour after arrival, we found Mo grooming the female tiger. The first night came with a bit of apprehension but there were no indications of problems from downstairs, no growling, no tumbling furniture.
The next morning, when we came down, all of them were sleeping in a big pile. Tigger the cat was sleeping right on top of the male cub.
Then I woke up.
It had been a dream.
We had a good laugh about our domestic dream version of the Life of Pi.
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