Mixed Blessings
Daisy, one of the feral cats, has finally - FINALLY - decided she trusts me enough to accept petting. And lord, she's decided it's the Best. Thing. EVAR!. She'll sit on the steps looking in at me, doing paddy-paws in the air and squeaking inaudibly every time I make eye contact. When I go outside, she runs up to me, then flops over on her side and wriggles around in ecstasy while I scrubble her belly and scritch her head and neck. I can't even describe how much this thrills me.
We couldn't trap her and the two grown kittens during the winter, because having them stuck in a live trap overnight in temps well below zero could have been deadly. I was hoping her body would refrain from going into heat again before we could get this sorted. Alas, it happened. Over the last couple of weeks she changed from a small cat who can't weigh more than 6 pounds to a small cat with a very round, fat belly. She looked like she'd swallowed a melon. About three days ago, she appeared back at the door, deflated. I made a fuss over her, made sure she had plenty of food and fresh water, and started trying to figure out where she'd stashed the kittens.
I didn't have to look very far. She had them in the den we made for them on the patio, right next to the sliding glass door. I could hear the occasional tiny squeak while giving her the multiple daily doses of attention. How much trust does that bespeak?
Today I looked a little closer to check on things. When I lifted the blankets, one of the kittens had apparently crawled/tumbled into a gap between the warm bed and the door of the shelter, where the heat didn't reach. It was so cold to the touch, I thought it was dead. I picked it up and it moved... just a little. OMG. I don't know how it could be that cold and still alive, but I shoved it under my shirt against my skin and ran in the house to warm it up. For about an hour, I kept it cradled against my skin with a heating pad on low nearby but not quite touching. As it got warmer it started moving more and squeaking. I got it cuddled in a bit of fleece and kept warming. When it started kneading/paddling my finger a bit, I settled it in the fleece and went to check on the others.
~sigh~ There were two more. One was apparently stillborn and I think the other died shortly after. I removed them and rearranged the inside of the den to block any gaps I could find and make it more difficult for the remaining kitten to crawl or tumble out. When I brought it back outside, Daisy sniffed and washed it a bit, and seemed to accept it. She curled up in the den and I set it next to her. I've checked on them a few times and she's been cuddled up with it, washing it now and then, and I hope nursing.
(It gets awkward continuously saying "he or she" since I don't know which, so I'm staying gender-neutral for now. If the kitten lives through the night, it will be L'il Tyke or LT until sexed.)
I've made a run to get some kitten formula and bottles, just in case. I don't know if Daisy will be a good mom and keep it warm and fed, or if something is wrong and she'll let it get cold again. I don't know if I can save it and keep it alive, if it fades again. I just know I have to try. This has started out as a crappy week and I was already dealing with that, so I'm not willing to give up on this kitten without a fight.
In other news, even though we take minimal withholding allowances on our W4's and have mortgage interest to deduct, we owe the IRS money. Apparently, we make just enough that we were bumped up into a higher tax bracket. It's not enough that I already have about 45% of my gross pay gone before I ever see it, the feds now want more. Can't have the peasants getting above themselves, you know. Sometimes I wonder why I bother working when the harder I work, the more money they take. Considering I drive an 18-year-old car, have a $7 per month Tracfone and no TV, I don't think I'm exactly rich enough to be subsidizing the government quite this much.
.
We couldn't trap her and the two grown kittens during the winter, because having them stuck in a live trap overnight in temps well below zero could have been deadly. I was hoping her body would refrain from going into heat again before we could get this sorted. Alas, it happened. Over the last couple of weeks she changed from a small cat who can't weigh more than 6 pounds to a small cat with a very round, fat belly. She looked like she'd swallowed a melon. About three days ago, she appeared back at the door, deflated. I made a fuss over her, made sure she had plenty of food and fresh water, and started trying to figure out where she'd stashed the kittens.
I didn't have to look very far. She had them in the den we made for them on the patio, right next to the sliding glass door. I could hear the occasional tiny squeak while giving her the multiple daily doses of attention. How much trust does that bespeak?
Today I looked a little closer to check on things. When I lifted the blankets, one of the kittens had apparently crawled/tumbled into a gap between the warm bed and the door of the shelter, where the heat didn't reach. It was so cold to the touch, I thought it was dead. I picked it up and it moved... just a little. OMG. I don't know how it could be that cold and still alive, but I shoved it under my shirt against my skin and ran in the house to warm it up. For about an hour, I kept it cradled against my skin with a heating pad on low nearby but not quite touching. As it got warmer it started moving more and squeaking. I got it cuddled in a bit of fleece and kept warming. When it started kneading/paddling my finger a bit, I settled it in the fleece and went to check on the others.
~sigh~ There were two more. One was apparently stillborn and I think the other died shortly after. I removed them and rearranged the inside of the den to block any gaps I could find and make it more difficult for the remaining kitten to crawl or tumble out. When I brought it back outside, Daisy sniffed and washed it a bit, and seemed to accept it. She curled up in the den and I set it next to her. I've checked on them a few times and she's been cuddled up with it, washing it now and then, and I hope nursing.
(It gets awkward continuously saying "he or she" since I don't know which, so I'm staying gender-neutral for now. If the kitten lives through the night, it will be L'il Tyke or LT until sexed.)
I've made a run to get some kitten formula and bottles, just in case. I don't know if Daisy will be a good mom and keep it warm and fed, or if something is wrong and she'll let it get cold again. I don't know if I can save it and keep it alive, if it fades again. I just know I have to try. This has started out as a crappy week and I was already dealing with that, so I'm not willing to give up on this kitten without a fight.
In other news, even though we take minimal withholding allowances on our W4's and have mortgage interest to deduct, we owe the IRS money. Apparently, we make just enough that we were bumped up into a higher tax bracket. It's not enough that I already have about 45% of my gross pay gone before I ever see it, the feds now want more. Can't have the peasants getting above themselves, you know. Sometimes I wonder why I bother working when the harder I work, the more money they take. Considering I drive an 18-year-old car, have a $7 per month Tracfone and no TV, I don't think I'm exactly rich enough to be subsidizing the government quite this much.
.