Foster Kittens in Alaska [7]

Bud says: I am not a cat person. I am however married to a cat person. When we married in my youth, I wasn’t astute enough to read the marriage contract close enough. It turns out that when married to a cat person, the non-cat person finds him or herself at the very bottom of a fairly long pecking order. All pets rate higher!

For the last several years, my wife has moved me even further down the pecking order by fostering cats from the Fairbanks North Star Borough animal shelter and a local cat rescue organization called Pet Pride. Both shelters frequently find themselves with pregnant cats but need to isolate the kittens from their general population to keep the kittens from the various diseases carried by the many adult cats. The solution is to find someone like my wife who will foster the kittens in their own home until they are large enough to be adopted, which in our area requires that they are two pounds so they can be fixed before they create new kittens. First the shelter will send someone out to inspect your house to ensure you have sufficient space for the kittens. In our case that means a separate room to keep the mother cat and the kittens away from our other pets which include three cats and two Siberian huskies. Then you are granted the pregnant cat to feed and care for.

While I’ve not noted any nesting behavior on the any of the cats we fostered’s part, my wife immediately works out a birthing box. Carefully prepared and considered, it contains several cat toys, is lined with old blankets, and is carefully selected to be the right size and located conveniently near the litter box and feeding station. Of course when the big day arrives, the mom cat ignores the carefully prepared birthing box and has the kittens behind the dryer. So I wake up to go to work and my morning preparations are interrupted by screams from my wife that kittens are coming and I need to immediately move the dryer. So there I am, in my BVD’s, wrestling the dryer out of the way so my wife can join in the miracle of new life while I go back to preparing for my work day.

Now we have kittens! At this point I note a change in our neighborhood status. I know parents have online lists of child predators to keep their children protected. However, after we managed to populate our neighborhood with the first batch of kittens (it seems an eight-week-old kitten and an eight-year-old child will bond in a time span of between four and five milliseconds!) we are now on the “has kittens” watch list. Children seem to be instructed to stay at least 300 yards from our house and when we are walking the dogs, concerned mothers come racing out to cover their child’s ears, in case we tell the child that we have kittens and they are welcome to come play with the kittens.

At roughly eight weeks the kittens hit the magic two pounds. Now my real danger point arrives. My wife doesn’t seem to have problems parting with the kittens as the shelter and the pound have no problem giving away the kittens. However, the mom cat is a whole new story, as they do have problem adopting out adult cats. While I’ve never given permission to get new cats, my wife found a loophole in the instruction. Last year I got a cat for Christmas and the year before I got a cat for my birthday! So we are now reaching that eight-week limit and I fear I’ll get a late Christmas present.

Maybe when they come out from the shelter, they need to check for the most important component of a household considered for fostering… an understanding spouse.