Samantha

Kittens

 

He was going about his normal day in retirement.  The circle of life was not particularly on his mind.  Tracking down missing documents, exploring options for digitalizing boxes of old photos, when he noticed that his pet dog, Junior, was focused on the chest of drawers in the bedroom.

You know how birddogs do when they locate a bird…that attentive stillness.  That is what Junior was doing, sitting beside the chest of drawers.  It was clear, Junior had located the source of those tiny chirps we had been hearing all day.  The newborn swallows in the garage had begun flying lessons; perhaps one of them had stumbled into the house.

He picked up a corner of the chest of drawers so they could both look underneath.  Nothing.  He opened each drawer; a cursory check brought nothing. These things had a way of working themselves out, he thought, so he turned back to the business at hand and thought nothing more about it.

The next day, Junior was at it again.  This time he was pawing a particular drawer.  The boss pulled out the bottom two drawers, for inspection.  Sure enough, there was a tiny gray newborn kitten, barely noticeable next to a gray sweatshirt.  To his great surprise, because he thought that any newborn left without the warmth of his mother for 24 hours, would surely die, this little guy was moving his limbs.

Since there was only an hour until the weekly garbage pickup, the Boss tucked the cold kitten inside his shirt, close to his heart, and continued gathering up the garbage.  He was a little slow, limited to the left hand, the right hand clutching his cane.

Garbage finally corralled to a tidy heap on the street curb, he turned his attention back to finding where the kitten had come from.  By now the tiny form within his shirt was wiggling. He knew his outdoor cat, Sammy, was due towards the end of July.  The July 4^th celebrations had just passed, last weekend, so he expected there was still time.  The neighbor’s cat, however, was a couple weeks ahead of Sammy in her pregnancy.  He thought to check with the neighbor to see how that was going.  This kitten was tiger striped, like that pregnant one.  Sammy is black Calico.  The neighbor wasn’t home. 

His cleaning duties were interrupted by commotion on the colonnade.  All three dogs were barking at the clay pots, on stands.  He limped along to see what was going on.  There, inside the small mouthed planter, was dark Sammy, the lighter calico patches obscured in her tightly curled body.  Inside the curve were a small mass of squiggling things.  Four kittens, in all.  The fifth was grabbing warmth under his shirt.

All other plans for the day were quickly put aside.  First order of the day was to prepare a safe home for her, within his home.  With all the dogs and other cats in the neighborhood, she could not feel safe caring for her litter living out of doors.

First order of things, clear all the junk off the dresser top.

Second, bring the pet cage in from the garage.  Line it with a clean adult diaper laid flat.

Next, gather up the handful of kittens and carry them to the cage.  The Cat would surely follow behind her kittens.

Now the cat was ready to be introduced to her home for the next few weeks. 

While she was getting acquainted with it, the Boss took a blanket from Junior’s bed and laid it atop the cage, giving her the privacy of a cave-like environment. 

Next comes the water dispenser, and a bowl of food.  Kitten kibble is now on the shopping list, but until he could get into town, a scrambled egg would have to do to supplement the basic adult kibble.  She will need lots of additional protein over the next weeks.

He finally took a break from this hectic morning to make himself a little breakfast.  Whoops, that scrambled egg in Sammy’s dish was the last egg.  No eggs and bacon on a roll for this guy’s breakfast.  Bacon and peanut butter would have to do for this vegetarian’s breakfast.  Vege what?  Well, take a vote.  Bacon is the most popular adopted pseudo vegetable among his crowd.

Now Junior is walking back and forth, licking his lips, trying to tell him something. 

“Let me guess.  It is twelve o’clock and you think I have forgotten something.”

Putting his toasted roll to one side, he pulls out a packet of moist dog food and fills Junior’s dish. Fortunately, “By the grace of God,” he thinks, the other two dogs are still distracted with the garbage truck and other cul-de-sac goings on, to notice his juicy meal. 

Loki, the toy apricot poodle mix, gets his meals at night, at the home he grew up in nine years ago.  That home still thinks of him as a guard dog; he thinks of himself as an adorable cuddly pampered poodle.  He needed some time on the couch before he could reconcile this dissonance.  The lady who wielded the broom every time he tried to sneak into the house he thought was his place, passed away this year.  He went to church for her funeral, and was greeted warmly by all the relatives and friends he knew from the years of his struggles at that farm home.  In the midst of celebrating her departure, there was happiness in reuniting with old friends.  One by one, he would go up to an old friend and, tail wagging, jump up to say hello.  He was always warmly received.  The next day he returned to that original home, and was welcomed by the widowed husband.  Still, he was relegated to sleep outside, alongside the puppy retriever mix that maybe could fulfill that guard-dog role better than Loki.  That sweet poodle stayed sweet, getting along with everybody, but missing the guy who truly understood him.  Each night around 6, after a fun day with Junior and whatever foster dog was currently in residence, Boss would remind him that it was time to go home.  His ears would droop, the eyes grow sad, but he would turn tail and slowly walk out the gate.

Coquetta is a recent addition.  She is mostly Jack Russell.  Her longish coat, of a Champaigne color and Jack-Russell coarseness, is a ball of energy.  When the Boss, Junior and Loki would go for a walk at dawn, he would always stop at the closed-up gate behind which Coquetta lived.  She always looked forward to the treats he usually carried, and was still happy when all she got were scratches behind the ear. 

Then, just a couple of weeks ago, her master died.  He was an impoverished native Mexican of the Tepehuans tribe, whose adoptive brother settled him in this abandoned tiny triangular space of someone’s backyard.  He was of few—next to none—words, and remained a cipher to Boss.  His death, then, came as a surprise, though perhaps only so to Boss.  It is likely that he suffered with an ulcer that finally burst.  There was a flurry of activity, in that day or two, it all happened so quickly.  As soon as discretion allowed, Boss made inquiries about the disposition of Coquetta and the two puppies.  For a few days there was just not enough space to worry about the dog.  The Boss asked for permission to temporarily take care of her, until it could be decided.

What he found was a dog living in squalor, with two remaining puppies two months old and ready to be weaned.  The other two had already died.  She was infested, like the puppies.  The two who didn’t make it were, no doubt, victims of the infesting vermin.  After repeated baths, to kill off the vermin, the puppies found homes.  Everyone loves puppies; less popular are adults.

At least Coquetta was very much alive, and playful.  For the moment, she was vermin free and safe.  In a week or two, she would recover from the traumas, and bounce back to her playful self.  The fifth kitten was still not sure he wanted to stay.

Boss, in the spirit of last-ditch effort, tried to place the fifth kitten at Sammy’s breast.  Before long it was clear that this kitten would not make it. 

Next morning, Boss looked in the cage and saw the inevitable.  He picked up the limp, cold body and removed it from the litter.

And so we are reminded of the fragility of life, the inevitability of the Circle of Life.  Two puppies, one kitten, and one lonely bachelor gone, versus four wiggling lively kittens clinging to life.  And the Dance continues.

 1.  Loki     2.Samantha and her litter     3. Junior    4. Coquette