So remember last week I promised to tell you all about how I wound up with a kitten in my bathroom cupboard?
Well…
November 11th.
The morning of November 11th, my tabby cat (as yet unnamed) was pregnant. She had spent the last few nights yowling to get inside and nesting every time she was in here. Nathan didn’t believe she was nearly big enough to be ready to give birth, but I argued, saying that she wouldn’t be complaining quite so much if she wasn’t. I suspected that she was only pregnant with 1 kitten and REALLY just wanting to give birth under our bed.
So, in the morning she was pregnant still. You could tell, she was fat and swollen and grumpy. Not surprising really.
However, that afternoon when I went outside to feed them, she wasn’t fat anymore.
I went to get Nathan to confirm my suspicions.
‘Uhm, hun? You know the tabby cat? She’s not pregnant anymore’
‘What do you mean she isn’t pregnant anymore?’
‘I mean, she isn’t pregnant anymore. Come see and double check for me though’
‘You’re right, she isn’t pregnant anymore’
‘I TOLD you she was ready to give birth’
‘Well… maybe…. heh…’
We debated whether the kitten that she had birthed was still alive, as there was no sign of it and she was sitting on our kitchen doorstep asking to be fed. We figured it would either turn up, or it wouldn’t.
Yes I know, we’re not really the most optimistic couple.
Nathan did look at me strangely though as I wandered around the yard ‘just checking’ all the likely spots that a kitten may have been hidden.
[Old shed? Not that I could see. Under the house? Not that I could see. etc]
An hour later, I went to the toilet and completely freaked out because I could HEAR a kitten mewing. I finished in record time, assuming that Seven had found the kitten and was killing it.
I was wrong. Heh, all that wasted alone time, even if I was in the loo.
Once I had heard the mewing though, I knew for certain that she hadn’t had a dead kitten, or abandoned it. I raced around like an idiot trying to track down the mewing. I even got Nathan in on the act, huffy sighing and all.
After about 20 minutes of no luck finding anything, we gave up. The mother could look after it where ever she wanted too and we would just hope that Seven didn’t find the kitten while it was alone.
UNTIL…
I was on the phone to Mum and Amy was playing outside with the animals. Next thing I know I hear frantic mewing from a kitten, giggling from Amy and unimpressed meowing from the mother cat.
I dropped the phone and ran outside. Amy had hold of the newborn kitten and was hugging it. Seven was racing around her barking like mad, trying to steal it, the mother was freaking out and I was standing in the middle of it.
Needless to say, Amy was NOT impressed when I stole the kitten back from her and gave it to it’s mother. Tears, tantrums, snot – you name it, we had it.
The mother cat picked up the kitten and instead of taking it back to where ever she had birthed it, she brought it inside!
Where Amy promptly stole it again, while I locked Seven outside so she couldn’t play too.
For the second time in 2 minutes, I rescued the kitten and gave it back to it’s mother. While I held Amy and explained why she couldn’t have it, the mother cat [who really really needs a name] picked it back up and dragged it through my lounge room, finally settling on taking it underneath the recliner.
Obviously the recliner is the safest place in the house, seeing as how toddlers and puppies can’t wiggle under there.
Me though? I really didn’t want a kitten living under my chair. The logistics of that? Just ugh.
So while Amy screamed that it was ‘AMY’S KITTEN! MINE! AMY’S!!!’ I went and found a box and some scissors. I sat down with Amy and explained that no, it was the cat’s baby and Amy couldn’t have it. But that Amy could help me make a bed for the cat’s baby where it could sleep.
Luckily once Amy realised that she was helping me and the ‘Cat’s Baby!’ she calmed down pretty fast and helped me hack a box to pieces.
We lined the box with an old sheet and popped it into the empty bathroom cupboard. Amy patted everything down nicely and was very good about it.
Then I went and got the kitten from underneath the recliner and with it mewing it’s little head off, I convinced the mother cat to follow us to the box.
Where I quickly shut the door until she settled down to sleep and feed the baby.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, I picked up the phone long enough to tell Mum I would call her back.
Funnily enough, everything I just wrote about happened within the space of about 7 minutes. Heh. It was…hectic.
What I gathered from what Amy had to say, was that the mother cat brought the kitten down out of the roof where Amy then stole it to ‘cuddle!’. Luckily she is mostly gentle.
Now I would love to say that the kitten has since spent all it’s time in the bathroom, being quiet and not disrupting our lives.
But I would be lying, because in the last 2 days, I have spent more time than I should tipping the recliner over, to find the kitten and convince the mother to move back to the damn bathroom already!
Somehow she isn’t that interested in staying in the bathroom. SOMEHOW living underneath my chair is much more appealing to her.
Sigh.
Damn cats.
Assvice of the day? Get your cats desexed.
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