George the cat.
This past summer three feral kittens showed up in my backyard. Missing my dog immensely. I began feeding them and we built a shelter for them behind the playhouse to protect them from the elements. I could yell here kitty, kitty and they would come running over each morning for breakfast. I called several rescues to see if they would take them. I got the same answer from all of them - No. Their recommendation was to trap them, bring them in, get them spayed and turn them loose. When I mentioned that my husband, there was a resounding No. I don’t remember the exact words but basically he wasn’t trapping and then paying for strays - lol!.
There are two gray tabbies and one with fluffy hair. I’ve named them: George, Timid Tim and Grace/Fluffy. Each day they showed up like clockwork waiting for their breakfast. I felt they were so little and needed the food. That was until the day I saw Tim running with a mouse in his mouth. The chipmunks don’t stand a chance.
As time went on, George started to rub against me. He eventually let me pet him. Every morning he waits by the door and when I open it he purrs and rubs against my leg. We had a ritual every morning. He greets me and wants me to pet him before he eats.
A week ago Monday, the cats were out on the porch at night. I went to see them and found Tim and Fluffy eating but no George. Where was my buddy? I bought a covered cat bed (don’t judge - lol - they were little and it was cold). I had it just outside my door. I looked over and George was inside of it. I looked down and saw something black with a little tail. OMG - George was eating a mouse!
Upon closer inspection, I see it’s not a mouse but a kitten. George was giving birth! George wasn’t a George but a Georgia! I sat on the step and watched the miracle of birth. At one point she put her head in my hand - she wanted me to pet her. George gave birth to three kittens. I went in the house and reported to my husband that George had just given birth to three kittens. Oh how I wish I would have had my camera on for his reaction. Priceless!
When I went back, there was a fourth kitten. Little George was a mother. Unfortunately, one kitten has died. One morning I looked inside and she was pushing the body to me. She wanted me to take care of it. I read where feral cats move their kittens a lot so they are safe from prey. She has not moved, she’s staying put in the cat bed. (Though, I’ve made it easy on her as I feed her by hand daily). She still comes to me in the morning to get loved. I think George has picked me for her person and I’m fine with that. When she is able, we will have her spayed and given shots. (Even the man that said no agrees - lol!) George forced her way into my heart and she will always have a place here.
Now about those Coronakitties! Anybody want one?
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