That's kind of the feeling around here since Friday night, when Twombly, the feral kitten who came in the back door in June, gave birth to five kittens in the quiet dusty dark beneath Reeve's bed.
We hadn't realized she was pregnant til last week. (Hadn't even realized she was female til mid-January!) Because she's still very afraid of us-except when we're horizontal-our attempts to catch her in order to get her to the vet to get spayed were embarrassingly unsuccessful. (In retrospect, though, we now realize she was already pregnant the first time we made an appointment for her, back in early January.)
And then Friday night, Tim heard the squeaks of little ones.
Since Mama Kitty had chosen a chilly and near-impossible-to-reach spot (we had been advised to handle the kittens as early as possible to help with their socialization and so that Twombly doesn't "teach" them to be feral like her) Tim and I spent a couple of hours Saturday morning crawling around under and over bed (mattress is elegantly held up by cinder blocks, so we couldn't just move the bed-and too low to crawl very far beneath), grabbing kittens and transferring them to a nice warm towel-lined box.
Of course our concerns were unfounded. Of course her maternal instinct was intact. Of course. Silly us. She finally joined her babies long enough for me to take a few photos-and then moved them to a different spot under the bed when I wasn't looking.
Tags: kittens, maternal instinct, surprise birth, Twombly
This entry was posted
on Tuesday, March 2nd, 2010 at 4:54 am and is filed under living, miracles.
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