I'd never had a cat before and had not planned on having cats. I was more of a dog person - our family had a great dog when I was growing up.
Then three and a half years ago, on our way back home from a trip to the western part of the US, my husband and I stayed with friends who live on a farm in Minnesota. A very friendly pregnant cat had adopted their farm. Three to four weeks before our arrival she had given birth to a litter of kittens. My friends had set up a cat bed on their unused back porch and were monitoring the new family - with 2 cats and a labrador dog, they had as many indoor pets as they could handle. A few hours before we arrived at their farm, they found her in the road - killed by a passing car. The kittens were not weaned at this point, so we used a bit of the formula they used to bottle feed calves. We tried to teach the kittens how to lick - 3 of the 4 learned, but not the runt. I began feeding the runt by using an eyedropper to force the fluid down her throat.
I was often on that back porch that weekend feeding and playing with the kittens - or at least the 2 that would come out of hiding. The runt was very curious, extremely outgoing, and always begging for attention. When her brother would see what she was doing then he would join in. The other 2 of the litter stayed in hiding, coming out only to eat.
My husband steadfastly ignored the plight of the orphans - trying to delay the inevitable. I begged and begged to take the runt home - "she's going to die without our help!" was my mantra. She was losing weight during the 2 days we were there. Finally, I took her and her brother into the house, put them into his lap and said, "how can we not help these?" He knew the battle was lost. Surprisingly he agreed to take both, concurring with my logic that they would be company for each other when we were gone all day at work.
So the kittens rode home with us in a Pepsi carton lined with an old towel. The kittens were so small when we got them home - one would fit in the palm of your hand. We fed them with a bottle the first night and after that a gruel made up of soft cat food mixed with kitten formula per the advice from the vet. (I never knew before this that you could buy kitten formula, just like baby formula.) All the little girls in the neighborhood would come to our house as soon as we'd drive up after work, asking if they could play with the kittens. As a result, the cats are quite social and at times, to me, act like dogs; they run to the door to greet whoever is at the door, they often roll on their backs to have their stomaches petted, and they have a "pack" mentality in that they don't like being alone and are happiest when DH and I are both at home.
The white tortoise is the female runt, who was so ugly when we brought her home that our sister-in-law called her "Ugg". I have to admit - she really was ugly. She didn't seem to have much fur and her skin was translucent. She looked like an albino bat. She is a real life version of "The Ugly Duckling." My friends say she looks and acts exactly like her mother. Her favorite activity is jumping to the top of the doors in our house (which measure about 8 feet high.)
This is one of her favorite "hiding" places when they are chasing and stalking each other around the house.
The tabby is her brother and he's just a big bucket o' love - a mama's boy. Cuddling on my lap is his favorite activity.
Unlike his sister, he's able to be on my lap while I knit because he can withstand the temptation to attack the yarn. He's also quite smart and has figured out how to open doors - which was an unpleasant discovery on my part as the door he had opened was the closet door to my stash. There were casualties - not the cats, although they came close - but a few skeins of yarn that were discovered strung ALL over the house (2 stories) one morning. The closet door now has heavy boxes permanently stacked against the door.
This is the usual scene at our house - at least when they're not bouncing off the furniture or trying to break into the stash.
4 comments:
Stash Haus, that was fascinating. Do the cats groom themselves? -- they look very clean. I think animal psychologists debate whether grooming is learned or an instinct
rosesmama here, visiting from Jean's:
Amazing. I had two kittens that came to me together, an uncle and a niece, who were four and five weeks when they came. They were born to strays that lived in a an old woman's dooryard, the old woman who had too many kittens, I guess. They also cuddled and slept together, and groomed each other. The male was very sociable, and could fetch, and jump onto doortops. Perhaps this is particular to American shorthairs?
They look very cozy, contented cats. They fell on their feet when you visited that exact weekend, I think!
My brother and sister cat used to snuggle up together as kittens, but pretty well ignore each other now. Shame, because they were cute curled up in a box together.
Thankyou for such a wonderful rescue story. My cat, Harvey Mudd, was rescued from Caltech campus as a 6 week old kitten. Well do I remember the kitten formula and the mess he could make with the gruel! He was covered in mud when my housemate found him and we wanted to name him something that would remind us of his initial mucky state. Another housemate was a Harvey Mudd College alumni and so it clicked and we named him after the college. An academically oriented kitty : )
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