Ellen's Kittens

Ellen wasn't too pleased about us moving her nest. When she found out, she grabbed them by their necks and dragged them back to the place of birth. It was nice to see she didn't reject the kittens but kind of harsh as well: The road back was pretty tricky and Ellen was new to it. She accidentally dropped the first she took back, one of the girls, and it hit the side of a brick. We worriedly watched her take them back one by one, but there wasn't anything we could do. When she was ready to expose us to her kittens, we'd know. Leaving the veranda door open, hoping Ellen would want to move her nest there, we went back inside. Later that day, I went back to check on Ellen and sure enough there she was: the veranda couch with four of her kittens. We looked for the fifth one but unfortunately it didn't survive the fall. Ellen seemed very comfortable, and we left the door open just enough so she could squeeze herself in and outside.

I had a big fight with my dad that day. He wasn't really pleased with the fact that there were cats in his house. After agreeing I would move the kittens off the couch, into a box, make sure they wouldn't leave the veranda to explore other parts of the house, and eventually find them a home when they were big enough, everything seemed to be okay. I grabbed a box from the garage, put a pillow in it and some towels, moved the kittens once again, and hid the box behind a chair. Ellen was happy. But the next morning we found the other girl stone cold. It was sad. We buried both girls in our front yard between the roses, said our goodbyes, and covered the little graves with flowers.

The three little boys were growing up fast, one in particular. While the other two stayed in their box, the all-white one was a true scout. Even though his eyes were still closed, he was always on the run, driving Ellen crazy. She constantly had to get up and carry him back just so he could take off again. It was so cute! My boyfriend Michael and I talked about it and we decided to adopt him.

A few weeks later, the little ones still hadn't opened their eyes. There was still a lot of crust and I had a little alarm bell ringing in the back of my head. I had seen this before with Poe, so I was sure they were struggling with an upper-respiratory infection, and the vet confirmed my suspicion. Since nobody else wanted to do the nursing and I didn't want to take the kittens away from their mother, I moved in with my parents for two weeks so I could give them their antibiotics, feed them, wipe, and clean their eyes/noses, and apply special ointment three times a day.

Young and playful as they were, the boys managed to find their way outside very quickly. To make sure they wouldn't escape, I put some boxes on top of each other at the exit so Ellen could still jump on top of them but the kittens couldn't. Once a day, I let them play outside for a few hours under my supervision. I may sound rough, but there's always lots of little children playing behind our house and they could easily take them, just like what happened to Edgar. There's also some guy in our neighbourhood with two huge dogs. He doesn't like cats much and often lets his dogs loose on them. Also, a few houses down the road, there's a guy that's known for poisoning cats.

When the kittens were almost ready to leave the nest, I decided it was time to find them a home. I posted a message on Facebook and soon found out they were very popular. Since Michael and I had already claimed one of them, I could only give two of them away. It was a nice feeling knowing I could afford being picky about who I'd give them to. Someone with dogs? No! Someone who already had a zillion cats? No! Someone who'd keep them in the garage? No… I wanted them to be looked after, get a lot of attention, and be spoiled. Eventually a friend of mine who was about to move into her new apartment and absolutely loves cats made the cut. The date on which she could pick up her new kitten was set, but until then, I would take care of him.

Meanwhile, Ellen was being a good mother. She taught her boys how to climb trees, hunt for birds, and how to use the litterbox. One day though, I walked into the veranda, ready to let the kittens outside, when I noticed alot of blood and feathers everywhere. Ellen brought a bird inside, not quite dead, and before the bird surrendered to its fate, it managed to peck the eye of one of my boys. His left eye looked horrible! Back to nursing… cleaning the eye and rubbing ointment on the wound. I felt really sad and tried to talk my boyfriend into adopting that one instead of our little scout, but his heart was set. After talking it over, we decided to take both of them.

Eight weeks after birth, my friend picked up her kitten. She was ecstatic! She named the little guy Willy and spoils him to death with lots of attention, toys, treats, a pillow to sleep on at the end of her bed, and even a leash to walk him. I'm proud I found him such a good home. Later she got another kitten, a female, to keep him company. There won't be another nest though, Willy got neutered when the time was right.

As for the other two, after we kitty-proofed our apartment, they too got to explore their new home. The all-white one is named Sheldon after the silly guy in The Big Bang Theory, but we usually call him "Mon" cause he's a purr-monster. He's very graceful, independent, and usually outside enjoying the weather and hunting for birds. I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up being the dominant cat in our neighbourhood when he's fully grown. He gets alot of respect from other cats and even dogs are scared of him because he shows no fear at all.

The other one we took in is named Rum. Because of the eye, he reminded me of a pirate, and when I think of pirates, I think of: "Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!" Eventually Rum's eye healed completely which was a big surprise. It had looked as if it was lost, but now all you can see is a little white dot in the middle of it. If you didn't know about his encounter with the bird, you'd never even notice it. Rum's confused about his identity, I swear he thinks he's a dog. He growls when Mon comes near his toy, loves rolling around on the doormat, chases his own tail, and plays fetch! He actually brings you the toy, drops it in your hand or lap, waits for you to throw it, chases it, and brings it back. He needs a lot of attention. No matter what you're doing, he'll find a way to get on your lap and demand attention. And when he doesn't get enough, he protests and gets behind the TV between the cables so we have to get up and get him out. Even though he's very clumsy, he's a great jumper. After six months, both kittens were neutered.

Ellen wasn't happy losing her kittens. She looked for them everywhere every single day for at least another week. Whenever we opened the door, she'd run inside, checking every corner while making sad sounds. She is now spayed but she ended up adopting a stray kitten who had lost his mother and treated it like her own.