KITTEN IN THE NIGHT
Terrible shrieks. Close by. Thrashing on the bed. All four cats alert. More squirming and cat discussion. Blood and mucus. Tuxie and her mother, Bunny, are most involved. Lickinglickinglickinglicking.
One lump. Totally indiscriminate. Gray. Squirmy. Chirping.
Slowly I wake up and figure out it's Tuxie having a kitten. She's been looking for a proper birthing place and being pesky about needing to be petted.
We all work on this lump. The comforter is doomed. The two big cats are lickinglickinglicking and the two from the last batch of Tuxie's kittens are watching. Thimble, the male, is interested but only watching. Thread, the female, is present but looking away.
The lump squirms around until it has found a fold in the comforter and goes into it, hidden. The two big cats are baffled until I pull away the fold. TaDah! A newborn kitten.
I'm reeling with sleeplessness. Finally I doze off with the light on. Then I half-hear the sound of chirping receding. The best birthing box is in the closet so I rouse and go look. Sure enough, Tuxie has her kitten in the box and is curled around it. The other three are still on the bed, but now they're quiet and sleeping.
I turn out the light.
This morning I inquire at Google. A cat can stop labor if she is stressed and interrupted. I think there were more kittens earlier, though Tuxie is a long-backed, weaselly, white-tipped feral cat who didn't seem bulgy. I heard a terrible scream outside in the long grass -- then silence. There won't be little carcasses. Other cats, still feral, will have recycled them.
This is not controlled cute kitty-stuff. This kitten is not welcome.
August the 6th. The lump is barely animated but probably overfed. The mother moved it into the midst of the laundry. I ended it. Now the grandmother cat, who was bulging, is thin. Where are her kittens?
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