Kittenhood: The Wild Instincts of Domestic Cats I FULL DOC | SLICE WILD

One morning in the French countryside, a kitten is born on a farm. As the months go by, it will grow into an authentic hunter. What remains of its feline instincts? Cats have been domesticated by man and humans play a decisive role in their existence. Especially in Tokyo, where cats are coddled like plush toys, sometimes spending their entire lives in these peculiar places called cat bars. Miles away in Greece, some cats roam free and are abandoned to the hands of fate. For them, their feline instinct is a question of survival. Three cats, three destinies, three worlds. Amazing and moving stories to discover the secrets of these familiar creatures. The sun is just rising and the farmer and his animals are already awake. A typical morning in the French countryside. In the barn, a new story is beginning. Nestled in a corner of the straw are five kittens. A hidden spot chosen by their mother to protect them from the elements as well as any predators that might happen by. This behavior has been passed down from the cat's wild ancestors. These domesticated kittens belong to the family of Felidae and share many likenesses with them. Like their cousins, lions and tigers, they have a round head with a flat muzzle and protractable claws. This little grey and white ball of fur is named Morissette. We're going to watch her as she grows to adulthood. But for the past half hour, she's been growing impatient. This is her mother and source of sustenance. Her eight nipples are more than enough for this litter of kittens. But they still need to fight for a spot and Morissette is already good at defending her own. With full tummies, the under-a-week-old kittens sink into a restless sleep. Their brains practice making their muscles move and they're racked with spasms. This phase is called seismic sleep and will diminish as they grow. A week's gone by. Morissette's eyes are wide open, but she still can't see yet. She gropes her way to her mother, relying on her sense of smell. She crawls, since her legs are too wobbly to stand. Her little limbs aren't strong enough to bear her weight of just 200 grams. Her meowing is the way she calls her mother. Morissette is distressed by her absence and cries to get her attention. When mum finally comes back, it's bath time. Cats are instinctively clean and the mother makes sure the family home never gets dirty. She licks her kittens' bottoms clean, leaving their fur covered in her pheromones. Another plus, the stimulation wakes them up before their meal. Since they suckle only tiny quantities at a time, the kittens nurse every hour, even at night. So they manage to drink about 25% of their weight each day. At two weeks, they already know how to stimulate milk production by kneading their mother's belly. Some adult cats, if they were weaned too early, will reproduce this reflex to soothe themselves. Farm cats aren't born year-round, but only during the warm season, like most mammals in temperate climates. The synchronisation of births is caused by a hormone called melatonin, when the days grow longer in spring. Nature knows what it's doing. This way, the kittens have a few months to learn how to walk before autumn arrives. One month later, here's what a six-week-old kitten looks like. Morissette is still unsteady on her feet, but instinct pushes her to venture a little further. Kittens are curious about everything. These five kittens' favourite activity is playing, and especially play fighting. The rules are simple. Bite and swat at whoever's down. These play fights are reminiscent of lion cubs in the savannah, a feline behaviour learning to fight without getting hurt. If Morissette were an only kitten, her mother would be more present in her education. But with a litter of five, she lets the siblings keep each other company. A reassuring cuddle also embodies a survival strategy – heat conservation. To develop properly, the kittens sleep nearly 20 hours a day. This time is needed for their growth. Morissette is over two months old now, and her days in the barn are drawing to a close. Now that she's weaned, she no longer needs her mother, and she's clearly the boldest kitten in the litter. The other four frightened kittens huddle in a corner, while their sister is lured by adventure. Morissette doesn't know it, but the farmer's been observing her and has noticed her natural gift for hunting when she was chasing her siblings. These hands belong to her future owner. As is often the case, cats are given to new owners as soon as they're weaned. In the wild, six months is the age at which wild cats are rejected by their mothers. One year for lynxes, and two years for tigers. The life of a domestic cat is much different. Kittens are removed from their mothers between two and three months, as soon as they are weaned. This is because kittens adjust more easily to a new environment within their first nine weeks of life. It's important for territorial animals such as these to discover their future home early, and discover the animals that live there. But before she can start providing pest control at the farm, Morissette must first adapt to her new home. When she first arrives, Morissette is kept in the kitchen to give her a chance to discover her new environment. During the holidays, Christmas tree decorations provide an ideal training field. The kitten doesn't know where to look next. Her attention span is still pretty short. A few seconds tops and she moves on to the next toy, as long as it moves when it's battered about as if it were a mouse. Is that a fly over there? Learning to hunt requires intensive training. All these moves will come in useful in real life when she grows up. But she needs to learn to be a little less conspicuous, and wait a bit longer before she can meet all the farm animals. In a familiar environment, the feline nature of the domestic cat is not always easy to see. But in Greece, it's much more obvious. Some cats don't have it so easy, and this picturesque setting on the Aegean Sea does not guarantee an idyllic existence. On an island off the shore of Athens, stray cats live in colonies. Introduced by pirates who occupied the port until the 19th century, their population has exploded in the absence of predators. But their scarred little faces show the harsh reality hidden behind the postcard setting. Here we see a little ginger orphan. Skinny and weak, the kitten must struggle to survive. It's undernourished and doesn't fare well during the cool nights of early autumn. Nearby, three luckier kittens play fight while the little ginger kitten looks on. One of them is even agile enough to climb a tree and attempt to hunt for food. The reason this trio is more robust than our ginger kitten is that their mother is around to watch over them and provide them with food. Mother cat makes the rules. She rations out her milk by feeding them in turns. Elsewhere they would be too old, but here their mother's milk is often the only source of nutrition. This one has gone blind in one eye, an infection caused by malnutrition. For the mother, it's also a struggle to find enough to eat. Leaving the kittens in a safe place, she heads out in search of food whatever the weather. The survival of her family depends on it. At the port, she waits for just the right moment. Salvation comes from the sea. Over the decades, the fishermen have grown accustomed to the cats and have become in a way their guardian angels. But mother cat is not the only one with the same idea. Every time a boat comes in, an amazing spectacle takes place. The entire colony of stray cats gathers to take advantage of the fish that are either too small or damaged to keep. Like tigers, cats are often solitary. Stray animals only tolerate their fellow creatures near food sources. The biggest males are always served first. Low in the hierarchy, the black female must wait until the dominant cats have had their fill. While the tomcats feast, mum finally manages to get her share. She eats her meal and even manages to bring back a little for her kittens. High up on the island, the kittens are lured from their hiding place by the smell of fish. Since they will soon be weaned, this familiarises them with dead prey. It's a way of stimulating their instinct before they learn to hunt for themselves. The ginger kitten is hesitant and timid. He's afraid, but he's also hungry. Finally, the one-eyed kitten lets him have what's left. The kittens don't have the silky fur and round tummies of well-fed kittens. But it looks like the shared feast has perked up the little ginger kitten, and he's now accepted by the three siblings. The survival mode stray cats live in reveals their feline instincts. But how do cats behave in Tokyo, the most populated city in the world? 42 million inhabitants, the majority of whom live in buildings that don't allow cats. Condominium regulations strictly forbid them for reasons of hygiene. Not so great for the Japanese, since they adore cats. Adore, and even worship. Like here, in the Buddhist Gotokuji Temple. Legend has it, a samurai was beckoned by a cat passing its paw behind its ear. He entered the temple just at the moment lightning struck where he'd been. To show his gratitude, he gave money to the sanctuary. And ever since, the beckoning cat, or Maneki Neko, has been a good luck charm to attract fortune. For cat lovers who can't afford their own house, there are places especially designed for enjoying our furry friends. This morning, the 15 residents of the Happy Neko Cafe emerge from the bedroom. 20 square meters governed by princess and these other domestic cats. A realm entirely devoted to cats, where human visitors are merely tolerated. This week, a new resident makes her appearance. This roly-poly kitten is called Korumi, little nut in Japanese. She's just turned three months old, the minimum age for admission to this rather unusual place, the cat bar, where she will live from now on. But if Korumi wants to fit into this elite feline group, she's going to have to prove herself. It's not easy for a little kitten to win the approval of all the full-grown cats that have lived here for years. Each cat has its own personality and habits. Princess, the Persian cat, often hides beneath the doll's bed. It's a feline survival reflex to find a hiding spot for peaceful sleeping. Komono likes to sit in salad bowls, classic behavior for domestic cats. They feel protected from the outside world, safe and secure. This one's called Roll. She's gotten into the habit of poking about people's plates. She refuses to follow the rules imposed by humans and eats whenever she feels like it. But there's no question of letting Korumi pick up the same habit. The waitress quickly sets the record straight. Last, but not least, is Konatsu. This Siamese cat is not quite a year old, and Korumi's presence reminds her of her kittenhood. These indoor cats seem used to a cushy life in a safe environment, far from the wild existence of their fellow Greek felines. They've traded their freedom to live like plush toys in an enclosed environment. But the cafe contains specially designed substitutes for life in the wild. Instead of trees, there are shelves. Because like leopards, for example, cats love to climb. The ideal position for staking out prey. The only prey here live outside the window, where they're impossible to catch. So to satisfy their urge to hunt, even the adult cats play from time to time. A behavior more common among cats in captivity. At the end of this day of discovery and play, Korumi finally finds a spot to rest between two sofas. Back on the farm, however, Morisette never takes a break. With her boundless energy, she clearly has other things on her mind than sleep. She's now four months old, and curious about everything. Her first adventures are right outside the house. They say cats have nine lives, since they're always in danger of losing one due to their curiosity. A characteristic they share with their lion cub cousins. Curiosity is what compels Morisette to face the unknown. The chained goats seem harmless enough, but the geese are a different story. They are territorial, and have even been known to frighten away humans. So just imagine a kitten. Curious doesn't mean foolhardy. Morisette hightails it to safety. Like her wildcat ancestors, she seeks the shelter of heights. She climbs to escape predators. But Morisette is inexperienced, and has trouble getting down. Luckily, her flexible skeleton, a quality shared by all felines both big and small, helps cushion her fall. Safe at last. It's all part of the learning process. A young border collie named Jamie has just arrived on the farm. He's going to herd sheep. The puppy and kitten are going to have to learn to get along. All felines are very attached to their territory. Instinct tells them to defend their property, even when they're domesticated like Morisette. But right now, she's torn between wanting to play with the puppy, and total fear. Feeling threatened, she rises up on the tips of her paws, and arches her back to make herself look as scary as possible to Jamie, who's not feeling very sure of himself either. After this show of force, Curiosity wins out over Aggression. And a peaceful coexistence settles in. What remains to be seen is how Morisette will fare when she is truly needed. Because if humans have allowed cats to coexist with them, like here on this organic farm, it's because they understood the creature's potential back in the days before rat poison. It all started 7 to 10,000 years ago. Cats became domesticated in the fertile crescent in Mesopotamia, where agriculture began. Rodents would scrounge from the grain harvests meant for humans and their livestock. Cats were lured near villages by the rodents, their prey of choice. It was a win-win situation for the first farmers, who were delighted to get rid of the unwelcome pests. First, cats had to get used to the other domesticated animals. But when it comes to rodents, no fear at all. Instinct is instinct, and Morisette immediately begins chasing the mouse. With all her senses alert, she detects her prey using sight and her sense of hearing, though not usually her sense of smell, which isn't nearly as sharp as a dog's. What happens next may surprise us. Rather than kill the mouse, 4-month-old Morisette plays with it for a long time. The simple reason is that she wants to make the hunt last as long as possible, until the mouse tires out. Among domesticated cats, the urge is independent of hunger. And maybe she's afraid of getting bitten herself by the terrified victim. She still needs to gain a bit of experience before she can become an excellent mouser. In the end, finicky Morisette turns up her nose at her prey. Meanwhile in Greece, the stray cats can't be so choosy if they want to survive on the island. The orphan ginger kitten is still alive. But he now lives far from humans. He's become a feral cat, the term used to describe domestic cats that have become wild. What's special about cats is that even if they adapt to human contact, they never become truly domesticated, and their predatorial instincts remain intact. The ginger cat has joined the colony that lives alongside the sea. The fishing cats. Cats on the water's edge remain an unusual sight. Since water was scarce in the Middle Eastern region where the wild ancestors originated, the cats developed a natural fear of it that they must overcome. If they want to eat. The crab is protected by both the waves and its shell. So the ginger cat decides to look for other sea creatures. This cat isn't afraid of getting its paw wet. But its technique isn't very effective. This one seems more agile. The ginger cat tries to copy it. Observation, imitation and survival instinct finally combine into the formula for success. But this meagre pittance is hardly enough. An adult cat needs 300 grams of food per day. In other words, about 10 fish, birds or rodents. Resources are quickly depleted on an island of stray cats. To round out the meal, the ginger cat also uses his sense of smell. Although it's a feline's third sharpest sense, after hearing and sight, it's still 100 times sharper than our own. Enough to lead him to the trash bin. The ginger cat gleans what tourists have left behind. A welcome addition of protein. During the summer, the ginger cat even knows a great spot, near a hotel, where the garbage gets piled. He's the king of the garbage heap. The problem comes when holidaymakers vacate the island in winter. No tourists means no trash. Life grows harsher and hunger is a constant daily reality. The island's inhabitants are moved by the homeless creatures' plight and look after them, like the fishermen, through a local association. In return, the cats are sterilized each year to limit overpopulation and prevent new orphans from swelling the ranks of the seaside cat colony. Although the Japanese cats may not share these same worries, the impatience of their empty tummies still upsets the serenity of their mornings. While the owner prepares breakfast, Kurumi, the kitten, is kept away from the frenzy. But order is quickly restored and everyone falls into place. No question of stealing from a neighbor's dish. Even Kurumi can eat peacefully without being disturbed. As soon as the meal is over, the cafe opens its doors to human patrons. They take off their shoes and wash their hands to keep any germs away from the cats. It didn't take long for Kurumi to get used to the coming and going of visitors. All those slippers don't disturb her in the least. She still plays with Konatsu, but also interacts with the patrons. That's her role here, which is convenient considering predation is second nature for domestic cats. Kurumi feels at home and even marks her territory, like the full-grown cats. Beneath their paw pads are scent glands that emit pheromones to mark where they've been. They may be domesticated, but they still need to satisfy their territorial instinct, which is why scratching posts are so useful. The cats rub up against the patrons to mark them with their scent, making them in a way part of their territory. But this is different. This cat is busy needing a nostalgic reflex. A trip down memory lane when it would need its mother's belly to nurse her milk. All domestic cats retain kitten behavior. It's actually their biggest difference from wild cats. When they curl up on our laps, it's like they were nestled against their mother's tummies. When we pet them, our hand reminds them of their mother's tongue cleaning them. For them, we are like substitute mothers. Comforted and content, they purr like when they were kittens. The vibration is as relaxing for them as for us. And it keeps their muscles from getting stiff when they stay in the same position for too long. Sleep is an important part of their life. 16 hours broken into a succession of short naps. When they're not asleep, cats spend a third of their time grooming themselves with their rough tongue covered in hook-like bumps. It's the ideal tool for cleaning and brushing their fur, but also for getting rid of the scents humans leave on them. And for those hard-to-reach spots, friends come in handy. Too much grooming, however, can also mean a cat is bored. Are these animals confined indoors and pampered like living plush toys happy? We'll never know. But although they've escaped the risks that come with freedom in exchange for this comfortable dwelling, there's no doubt all their instincts are still intact. The proof, when Kurumi is presented with the screensaver of a cell phone. This digital butterfly is the only thing she'll ever be able to hunt. Whereas back on the farm, Morisette has the good fortune to come and go as she pleases. When a stranger ventures into her territory, Morisette knows how to show who's in charge. The flexible feline has grown much more sure of herself. Her ears pick up the slightest sound, her whiskers detect movement in the air, and the pupils of her sharp eyes adapt to the light. These natural weapons have caused the demise of thousands of birds in our gardens. Because tireless hunters like Morisette reign supreme over their domain. She may look domesticated, but she is still wild at heart. Unlike other farm animals such as sheep, donkeys and goats, these herbivores live in herds that rely on human protection. And when Jamie spreads terror in the farmyard, he doesn't go so far as to eat the geese. And he doesn't scare Morisette anymore. Raised together since their earliest days, they no longer fight like cats and dogs. But their personalities are still very different. In the history of cats, their domestications seven to ten thousand years ago did not fundamentally alter their behaviour. As Morisette, the ginger cat and Kurumi have demonstrated, cats remain ferocious predators no matter where they live. The wild cat that sleeps within them will never be tamed.