I have a dentist’s appointment in a little while, and really nothing much happened this weekend of note (how ’bout that time change, eh?), so I’m going to tell you the interesting news, and maybe something of note will happen during my visit to the dentist/ Petsmart/ Target today!
Last Monday I said something along the lines of “Just two more weeks ’til I can have babies back in this house! I can’t wait!” to Fred. We had agreed that we’d wait the whole six weeks of my recovery before we had more fosters.
Then on Tuesday I got an email from the shelter manager asking if we could take a pregnant cat, though she assured me that if we couldn’t, it was okay. I hesitated long enough to call Fred at work and say “THERE IS A PREGNANT CAT WHO NEEDS FOSTERING I WILL START SCOOPING THE LITTER BOXES AGAIN IMMEDIATELY I AM GOING TO TELL HER YES, LOVE YOU, BYE!”, and then emailed her and said “GIVE TO ME THE PREGNANT CAT!”
Fred, who has been scooping the litter boxes since I had surgery was only too happy to turn the scooping back over to me and had no complaints about bringing a pregnant cat home. Fred, if I haven’t mentioned before, LOVES the Momma kitties, and the Momma kitties love him back with an unsettling crazy-eyed passion.
Friday, after Fred got home from work, we went up to the shelter to get her.
(She was rescued from a kill shelter in Tennessee, and had to go to the vet for testing, and then be delivered to the shelter, which is why we didn’t have her immediately.)
She is a total sweetheart.
The shelter manager estimates her to be about 8 months old. I believe it – she is one tiny cat. We don’t know how far along she is, though she’s visibly thick through the middle. I did some Googling around this morning and due to the fact that we can’t actually feel the babies in her midsection, let along see them moving around, I’m going to guess she’s less than seven weeks pregnant.
That’s pure conjecture on my part, though, of course. She doesn’t like to have her belly touched, but she was laying on her back letting me rub her chest yesterday afternoon, and I stared at her belly the entire time. There was absolutely no movement, and on the rare occasion she does let us touch her belly, it just feels like muscle. No distinctive little kitten heads or elbows or feet to be felt just yet.
Whenever I go into the room to hang out with her, she spends the entire time purring and rubbing up against me. I’ve gotten her to play a few times, but she’s more interested in love than in playing. She kneads on anything she happens to lay her paws upon – the floor, a toy, my leg, my arm – which necessitated the clipping of her claws. She put up with it, though she didn’t like it, of course.
I swear, she’s the most laid-back momma cat I’ve ever seen.
We (Fred) moved the chair out of the foster room because I was pretty sure she’d end up going under there to give birth, and while I’m not opposed to her giving birth where she’s comfortable, I wanted to be able to get to her if I need to.
I set up two different nesting areas for her, giving her the choice between a very large plastic storage bin on its side, piled up with towels and blankets, and a kennel piled with towels and blankets. (When we had Kara, we put a cardboard box on its side in one corner of the room, and that worked just fine, but when the babies got older, they peed in the corner of the box, and I wanted something we could clean and reuse.) She appears to have gone in and dug around in the kennel, but every time I go into the room, she’s either headed toward the door because she heard me coming, or she’s asleep in one of the cat beds on the floor.
Did I mention she’s a sweetheart? She totally is.
At this point, we haven’t named her. I was leaning toward giving she and her brood (whenever they arrive!) Irish names in honor of St. Patrick’s Day, but if the little ones aren’t going to be here for a few more weeks, I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. “Maura” is Celtic for “Raven”, and I think that’s a pretty name. I’ll have to think about it, though. We’ll see!
Fred wanted to name her “Floozy.” Ha!
Just call us the Love & Hisses Home for Wayward Teen Mothers!
Jake is 93.8% sure he’s not supposed to be in the back yard, even though I’ve repeatedly assured him it’s okay. Whenever I approach him and he’s outside, he runs for the back door, sits on the steps, and watches to see what I’ll do next. If I take even one step toward him, he races up the steps and through the cat door. He’s such a nut.
Previously
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: Mad Boog disease!
2005: MY BOX!
2004: (”He sighed at me, your honor, and then I had to kill him.” “Case dismissed!”)
2003: No entry.
2002: Bastards.
2001: You’re thinking If you had a clue how to tell which hamsters are girls and which are boys, you wouldn’t have this problem in the first place!
2000: Yes, I’m a goober, I think we all know that.
Oh my. She is such a pretty lady. This is the first time in a long time that I do not have a black kitty in my life and I miss it. They are such beautiful cats. The shine on her coat is amazing. I am looking forward to this journey. I like the Irish names. You could name the boys good Irish names like Digger, Brady, Knute etc…
Pretty certain that I heart the momma cats most because I totally heard her story, saw her and immediately thought she should STAY even after the kittens are adopted.
You could also go with a Celtic Women theme for the lassies….Mairead Nesbitt, Orla Fallon, Meav Ni Mhaolchatha, Chloe Agnew and Lisa Kelly
Ohhhhh, a black kitty! My first kitty was a black kitty!
I don’t watch 16 and Pregnant, but if there is a notable name from that show, it would be appropriate for this little missy I would think! I love the Irish names idea, but if she makes it to Easter, we’ve got Jelly Bean, Peep, Cadbury …
Oh, this is fun!
Jake is 93.8% sure he started off on some steps at your house, and he wants to make sure he’s always on the “right” side of that door. With Gawd as his witness, he’ll never be poor again!
What a beautiful little girl! Looking foward to her progress.
Oh – my heart aches looking at this cat. She looks just like our Licorice – who we had for 17 years and I had to put down at Thanksgiving time. Beautiful black, white under the chin and tummy – she has the same face… If I didn’t live in ND – I would be right down to adopt this momma and her kitties. 🙁 I got chills when I opened your site – it was like looking right at her!
Yay! Kittens on the way! Momma looks identical to a stray I took in called “Tiny” because she was so very small — at first. She never had any babies, but began to grow fat, which looked even more portly on her tiny size. Lived a long, happy life. The momma cat is strikingly similar, even down to the white spot on her neck and at the bottom of her belly! The “facial expression” is also like Tiny — I just couldn’t help but think Tiny has been reincarnated!
Looking forward to following along on this trail of joy!
If I believed in such things, I would say that Momma cat is the reincarnation of both my sister’s cat Pushie (put to sleep 2 years ago) and my Gomer Pyle (put to sleep just under a week ago). She is the spitting image of my sister’s cat, Pushie. When I look at these pictures in this post, I could swear on a stack of Bibles that it’s Pushie, down to the exact same white patch on the chest and the exact same face. BUT, he was pure eeeeeevil. The only person who could ever come near him was my sister, and even she got shredded up on occasion. He was the meanest cat I’ve ever met in my life. He’d cut your throat as soon as look at you!
Gomer Pyle, on the other hand, liked to play sometimes but was much more interested in the lovin’. All you had to do was say his name and he would start purring. As soon as the purring started, the kneading paws would start, too (well, then after his leg amputation, his paw – singular – would start kneading). He would knead against things or just in the air. Often, I would come into a room and find him just absent-mindedly kneading the air as he lay on his back. He just loved snuggling and rubbing his head against whatever body part was closest. If he was displeased with something, he would just let out a gravely little high-pitched meow and lick my hand and the go right back to rubbing my face and purring. BUT, he looked almost exactly like Bill, of the True Bloods (that picture of him posted yesterday, sitting on the towel, looked almost just like Gomer).It’s strange to hear about a cat who sounds like Gomer but looks like Pushie!
I hope Momma cat does well and I look forward to following her story here! 🙂
Momma cat is so beautiful. I guess I’m prejudiced because she looks exactly like my cat, Taco! 😀
There must be so many tiny black kitty girls because Moma Cat reminds me of our last cat Guenevere. She was our “sweetie petitie” and had the same sleek shiny fur. Guenevere was loving to us but didn’t take to strangers and especially hated children-my nephews dubbed her “the hiss machine”. Mamamcat looks very sweet. I like Irish names too but I’m sure whatever you decide will be good. It’s so exciting for a new foster to be at Crooked Acres and especially a promise of brand new tiny kitties!
How fun! You’ve probably got a bit of a wait because it was over a week after I first saw Minnie’s belly move before she had her kittens. By the end, it looked like a bag of worms! Of course, it probably depends on how many your mama’s got in there. It’s great she’ll have a chance to relax in her new digs and get to know you before the big day arrives. Exciting!
Awww – I love her! My first black cat was Jesse and now we have black Jack. Looking forward to tracking her progress. Congrats Robyn!!
My GOD!!! That coat!!! She is just stunning!!! Here’s hoping that whomever was her hook-up was at least as good looking, and that she doesn’t have a bunch of wonky-colored kittens… Those just bug me… Because I have to pick them up AND WUV ON THEIR WONKY-COLORED BELLEHS!!!
Ahem. I’m okay now.
Glad you’re back in action but please, Robyn, DON’T overdo. We’ll all get really peeved at you if you’ve got a litter of kittens you can’t photograph because you’ve had to return to bed. Just remember, you have a responsibility to your readers to satisfy their prurient kitteh-gazing interests. 😉
She’s very pretty but stupid people who don’t spay and neuter their pets SUCK! Eight months is too young be having baby kitties.
“Floozy” lmao. I have had a bad day and that just made it a whole lot better.