Meow Culpa

Okay, this may be a multi-day series of posts, or it may be concluded quickly. Let me begin with my mea culpa: Yes, I scared off a cat who was giving birth, subsequently abandoning a newborn kitten. Before you hate me, let me explain.

If you have spent any time with me, you may have learned that my patience with the cats next door grows thin. Three years ago, there were 40+ cats. Now there is about 7-10, but two or three are pregnant this spring, so the numbers may rise again. Some of these cats give birth twice in a year. And these are very healthy cats, good tabby stock, only winter and cars seem to kill them off.

The past few weeks I have become agitated with some of these cats stealing baby rabbits out of a den, and then playing with them letting them squeal, etc. I hate that part about cats, maybe because it is the part of them that reminds me of human nature. Last night, I heard this squealing, and as I was letting the dog wet the grass, I decided to do something about it.

The corner was dark, but I can tell there was a cat, and it was working on something that was squealing like a caught rabbit. Having enough, I hit that cat with my shoe to make it give up. The dog just stared as the cat hissed and then ran off. Either she knew what was going on, or is too bored with the cats to give chase. (I suspect the latter.) Expecting to find a rabbit, and wondering if I could really re-connect it with its family, I was surprised to find a kitten with four-inch belly-button attached to the placenta. This was just born!

I set the kitten out in the yard for a 1/2 hour, listening to it mewing, but its mother never returned. It was about 40F last night, so I did not expect the unfed, uncared-for kitten to last more than an hour or so. When I went and checked on it, I thought it was dead.

By now it was 2am, so I brought it inside, perhaps to find a shoebox to bury it in. I owed that much. However, with some rubbing of the cold damp fur, it responded, and started mewing again. I detached the placenta and tube with some scissors, wrapped it in a blanket, and put a few drops of water into its mouth, which rejuvenated it more. I hoped it would get loud enough to call its mother, but I also feared that mother was off giving birth to the rest of the litter and had written this little guy off.

Feeling guilty, but not knowing what else to do, I set up a crate, more blankets, and put the kitten near our neighbor's porch. I thought it could last at least another hour this way, buying time for the mother to scoop it back up. I never touched the kitten, so I hoped this improved its chances.

In the morning, 5 hours later, I retrieved the crate. Mostly, I did not want my neighbors to think that I was up to no good or anything. The kitten was still damp, cold, and a little stiff. Surely this animal had passed on in the night, never remaking its mother's acquaintance. But, it woke up.
--gh