A Tale Of 5 KittensPosted: May 11, 2011
It got up to a miserable, 97 degrees yesterday. It’s a good thing I got most of my housework done early. Ugh! By the time the hubby got home I was looking less then fresh. He made the mistake of saying something about my taking a shower, which if I remember right caused me to growl that I’d already taken one, and he clammed up quick. Oh, HELL NO! He’s knows better than to even get me started on a rant or he’ll spend the summer fighting with me about getting central air. I-am-so-mother-fucking-there! He learned that from pissing me off about the heat. Anyway, my son went and put the air-conditioner up in our room for us…which was nice, because I know my husband would’ve waited as long as he could to save on electricity. That man sometimes…. So my husband was able to sleep in bed with me again. Yeah, I told him night before last not to bother coming up and to sleep on the couch. He’s like a furnace, it was already too hot up there, and I’d asked him to put in the air, he’d promised, then didn’t. Serves him right. OKAY, SO I’M A BITCH! GET OVER IT! HE HAS. Besides, if any one of you even had clue one the stuff I’ve had to put up with you’d think me a saint for staying with him. Umm…case closed!
Well, it was a cool, Spring morning with a light rain, and improved my mood when I woke up. I checked on my kitties, and they still haven’t opened their eyes. I let Pandora Kitty out of the kennel (I turned Sully’s, big kennel into her private apartment and covered it for privacy, you know…in case she decides to have her kids while we’re asleep), she’s really huge, her belly is rock hard, and she’s miserable now. ((Shudder)) I’d never want to go through that again! 88 degrees today. Well, anything’s better than yesterday.
Oh, I was going to tell you all how I came across my little, black darlings day before yesterday….
I was taking the boys out to go potty in the afternoon, and as soon as my feet hit the front porch I heard a faint meowing. I looked around, saw nothing, and automatically had that ‘eureka’ moment that there were new kittens in the vicinity. I practically drug Sully to his chain to hook him up (Yes, I had major, uber-strength in that very moment), and went back to the porch to listen again for the noise. There it was again! Umm…where was it coming from exactly?
Now there isn’t much going on with the front of my house. You have a short, concrete slab, front porch with rails in the middle. A raised, brick ledge for a flower bed (that never freaking grows cause my thumb is apparently purple and not green, or some shit!) on the one side of it, and maybe a few feet or so to the wooden, cellar doors on the other. So you can imagine my standing there scratching my head and wondering where exactly she hid them. Could she have tunneled somehow under the crack in the boards where the cellar doors are, and had them down on the stairs? WTF? Okay, I figure anything is possible, so I step off the porch, start moving towards the cellar, heard the sound again, and realized now it was in a different direction…but the only thing sitting there against the house was one of those large, metal, traditional-style milk containers. Oh, you gotta be kidding! Yep, that’s right. That’s where I found it. Remember I said ‘It’ not them.
I might mention that this container has a habit of being a trashcan at times for anything small my family finds nearby on the ground, and disposes of it in there…well, cause they’re too damn lazy to walk to the ‘actual’ trashcan. So anyway, here I am with my flashlight in hand, peering down into the bottom of this thing, looking for movement among all the debris, and there it was. One little, black kitten, crying it’s freaking eyes out. I panicked. I truly did. I thought maybe she’d abandoned it or something. I quickly grabbed a hand towel, picked it up, carried it inside, and called my husband to get our vet’s cell number (Our crazy-ass, long-haired, hippie vet, is also one of my husband’s best friends. Go figure, huh?). He called Doc Ed for me, called me back to tell me to give it some corn syrup to raise it’s blood sugar level up, and said he would stop and pick up some kitten formula and a small syringe on his way home. Okay…possible tragedy averted!
Now, believe it or not, I am bright enough to know that kittens come in litters, so I figure I’d better check that container out a little more closely. I put the one kitten in a little basket with its hand towel, grabbed another, and ran back outside. Sure enough, there’s another one down there howling, and I’m trying to free it’s little head from a round piece of broken, metal, lawn ornament that it’s tangled up in, and cursing my husband and son all the while for their laziness. Looked a little more closely, and nope…that was it. Only two?
You can only imagine how confused my cat was when she crept back up to the house, who had not abandoned her kittens after all, but had placed them there intentionally (I’d like to think because she knew it was close to the front door and I would find them. Whatever! Let me live in my own grand illusion.). I saw her, ushered her inside, got them settled in the Chihuahua’s kennel, and tucked them away in the corner of our big kitchen for some privacy. She fed them, then climbed out and insisted on going back outside. Next thing you know she’s carrying a kitten to the house. My son is yelling to me, “She’s got another one.” I took it and put it with the other two, and told him this time to watch where she’s going. It happened to be right to the hollow of the Crab Apple tree in the front yard, where she came out with yet another.
I swear I searched that tree thoroughly after she’d been there and came back inside, and I found nothing more. I even went back and double-checked the container again. She seemed a bit apprehensive about staying inside, but didn’t seem to come up with anything more while she’d been out, so we just figured she’d lost count or something. Hell, I don’t know. Can they even do that? It was fortunate my husband stepped outside a bit later to finish a cigarette, or we may never have gotten the last. The little bugger had somehow managed to crawl out of that tree on it’s own, and was moving around on the ground near the trunk. Don’t feel faint. It’s alive and well. Just needed nursed. I worry though that there might have been another that got drug off, because she went back outside, wandered around, looked in the container, and even walked the stretch of the long drive. I shudder to even think about that.
So that is my kitten-tale. Moments of anxiety that have resulted in complete happiness. As I said before, I’m taking no chances with Pandora and am keeping her in the house. I want to know where and when she has them, and am making sure every little last one is accounted for. Want to hear something really sweet? Lucretia climbs out of the kennel after she’s done nursing and the babies are asleep, and goes right to where her pregnant sister is laying and hangs with her. “Ahhhh….It just warms my heart.”