Cat-atonic state of being

We’ve an excellent group of mousers this year.

So it’s well after 1:30 AM and I’ve finally arrived home from work; I’m tired and my shoulder aches and I can’t wait until I can get some warmth on it to ease the pain. So what happens? I have to try and park my car in the dark of near-pitch-blackness of the country–we do have a yard lamp post, but that’s really the only light source and NOT run over a bunch of little cats eyeballing prey…One of the July 4th grays–actually, one of Oliver’s protegees caught something and was making a meal of it, refusing to move. If you’ve never witnessed this event first hand, it’s like a group of crocs milling about, snapping and hissing at who’s gonna get the leftovers…and trust me, there’s never any left overs. Herding cats ain’t fun on a good day…but in the dark, it down-right SUCKS.

But I eventually get my car parked in it’s spot, I call out a hello to Gimpy, who was nearby and then head toward the door to my house, eagerly awaiting the warmth of a heating pad on my shoulder and a cup of sleepy-time tea. And then, I hear it: Tiny. Helpless. Mewling. I felt my shoulders fall and my head hang down. I sighed and cussed out loud: Dammit. I must be a friggin’ crazy cat ladyYou know the type…the ones everyone pokes fun at…

I think I spent about a good three-quarters of an hour by flashlight trying to figure out where to hold up two tiny itty-bitties (kittens–about 4 weeks old, I’m guessing), so that they’d stay warm. Ms Jane (the Mamma) is nowhere to be found –probably in our basement (cats can come and go at will¬† via “cat doors”); but I’m guessing again though. She won’t bring them in–can’t say as I blame her though, she’s lost at least 6 kittens this spring (two to dogs, and four abandoned fosters (that I found a little too late a few days after). The smaller one was already shivering, so I placed them both at the communal feeding area to eat and when they were done, I put them both in a barn stall where the Jane once them nested;¬† but apparently they weren’t having anything to do with that and they jetted right under my feet and out the stall door before I could even get close enough to shut it. Our horses, by the way, prefer to stay outside, so don’t worry about anyone getting trampled whilst in the barn.

I realized that Oliver (he’s such an awesome boy!) was actually sticking pretty close by–not sure if it was because I was making such a fuss over them, or what, but he stuck around and was checking them out, but then got distracted by one of the other teenagers finding a hidy-hole between the stalls and went to investigate. Older sister, Boo Kitty has baby sat them before, but didn’t seem interested in helping out tonight. Smokey, one of the other Queens was nearby and kept going up to them, chirping and sniffing, then getting irate because they’re not hers. She’s usually pretty good about fostering, but not these two.

I don’t DARE bring them in and place them in a soft, kitten-blankie-lined vari-kennel…my husband would kill me (ok yeah, he has to catch me first, but he can certainly vocalize his disdain–even at a distance–and that cuts me to the bone),…My track record with releasing “orphans” is less than stellar–it’s why I have six indoor cats instead of just three. And I don’t dare go outside to check on them because if they’re nearby, they’ll haul their little kitty-butts over in my direction…and it’s because I’ve had to “save” them before. I just have to trust that our colony is actually going to come together and bring these two littles into the fold, like I’ve seen them do with countless others…like they did with Oliver, Gimpy, Wally and Boo Kitty. These cats are SMART and they understand that there is safety in numbers: I am praying that Oliver will forgo his usual solitary sleep-state and watch over them.

It’s going to be a long, LONG night.

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