New little family members . . .

I have babies in my house.  Yep, I'm a new mommy to two little kitties who are 13 days old.   I got suckered.  My bleeding heart, look at life through rose coloured glasses, take care of those unable to take care of themselves, suckered.  When my mom called me on the brink of tears, distress almost palpable through the phone lines, I said yes.  And now, I am wondering how I am going to part with these two little babies who have clawed my hands to shreds and wiggled and purred their way in to that place in my heart reserved for soft, cuddly, little beings that need my help.  Seems I've kind of got it bad.

Two weeks ago my parent's cat birthed six little babies.  The first one did not make it.  It was, according to my mom, not a normal size.  It's head was over large and she thinks that momma cat may have sat on it as it's spine was at an angle that it should not have been.  Almost eight hours later, she birthed five more little babies.  Four days post birth she disappeared.  It's possible she suffered some internal injuries and just left to die quietly.  It's also possible that an owl had breakfast or a coyote had lunch.  However it happened, it's sad.  Mom and dad realized by end of day five that momma was not coming back and quickly stepped in with bottles and syringes to feed them.  Both of my parents work full time, so there was no way that they were going to be able to feed the kitties every two to three hours as they were going to need.  Mom put the call out to my sister and I and we answered.

As a mom, any baby in distress sets my heart to aching.  I want to just wrap them up in my arms and make it all better.  Obviously, that will never happen, but when and where I can, I will.  So here I am, with two babies.  They need their faces washed and their tummies rubbed, bottles and syringes with warmed goat's milk, and they need to be nurtured.  They crave touch.  As soon as one of us puts our hand in the little bed we've made for them they start to climb – fast.  And when they get snuggled into a crook of an arm or neck they start their little engines – their purring is a most beautiful sound.  I like to think that it's their way of saying “thanks for taking care of me” and “you're doing a good job.”  When they roll over in my hand, bellies exposed, you know they feel safe and secure, and that is a really good thing.

We have divine instruction to look after the animals that are put into our care.  There's scripture that instructs us to take care of the animals, to not abuse them.  And so, I am caring (go big or go home, in real deep, loving these little babies) physically for their immediate needs and emotionally on my part in ways that I maybe didn't really want to, but deep down, maybe needed to.

It's going to be very sad in our house in six more weeks when they're old enough to go to new families.  My kids have become attached.  I have become attached.  They help with the holding and stroking – a lot.  It's their favourite thing to do.  They're learning what “really gentle” means and that the kitties are babies not new novelty toys (this is a tough one because all they really want to do is play with them).

When all is said and done, I am grateful that we are able to have this opportunity with our kids and they get to see all that is involved with caring for these little babies.  Growing up on a farm we saw life and death on a regular basis, but we never got to be the ones caring for new kittens.  This is a new experience for me given the sheer number of critters I grew up with, I never had an opportunity to be momma to kittens.  Especially not kittens who were less than two weeks old.  I'm glad I get to do this and my kids get to help.  And, hopefully, babies will thrive and my kids will get to see the end result as positive.

Anyone want a kitty in six weeks?

So I have to add an update here at the end.  I wrote this post over a three day period.  Yesterday, just a few hours after I finally posted it the little dark haired kitty died.  Devastated does not even begin to describe how my kids are feeling.  How does one deal with their children's first heartbreak?  She/he (not sure of the gender) stopped suckling from the bottle, so I was using a syringe.  Breathing got laboured in the early afternoon and by 3pm, when we got home from school, it was over.

Ryan wanted a kitty funeral.  So we found a box and some soft cloths.  Dug a hole and buried it and then the kids all put flowers around.  We are now sifting through all the emotions and I'm trying to find answers for them for some tough life questions.  Prayers and positive thoughts would be great right now.