Oliver Kitteh - Chapter One: Treats of the place where Oliver was born, and of the circumstances attending his birth.

Through my last blogs I met a woman whose kitty stories I'm going to share with you over the next few Tuesdays. It's the story of Oliver, and his mother Chloe. I'll call my friend Ms Brownlow, after the kindly Dickens character Mr Brownlow, who took in Oliver Twist. What follows is a tale that begins with some sadness, but contains much kindness, love, overcoming, and happiness. Annnd cute kitteh photos.

Chapter One: Treats of the place where Oliver was born, and of the circumstances attending his birth. 

Chloe was a feral cat whom a few neighbors were feeding. (If she was ever a housecat, Chloe acts like a feral now.) Ms Brownlow could tell she'd given birth before and wanted to take her in so she wouldn't get pregnant again, but the landlady hated cats and didn't allow pets. Sure enough Chloe got pregnant again, and soon after all her kittens were discovered in a neighbor's yard--they hadn't lived, because Chloe had distemper. (If passed on to kittens at birth, 95% will die.) She'd even brought one of the dead kittens across to Mrs Brownlow's building to tell them what had happened (to get help?) giving the more sensitive neighbor a bit of an upset. Poor Chloe.  :'-(  Ms Brownlow believes she was only about a year old herself at this time.


When she was discovered pregnant for a third time:

"everyone was pretty traumatized by the story of the kittens and no one wanted to deal with the guilt of knowing that might well happen again, and pretty soon, too. 

So one night my landlady approached me and said if I could get the cat into my apartment it would be all right for me to keep her there.  The next day the computer system was down for hours at work.  I took an early lunch hour and rushed to PetCo where I bought a cat pan, dishes, some toys, as much stuff as I could carry.  That night I deposited those in my apartment, then rushed to the local supermarket for litter and food.  I was set. 

Early Saturday morning, about 6:00 AM, I went outside with a can of cat food and began looking for Chloe.  She came by soon after and I began talking to her and walking toward my building door and she followed.  Soon I was able to get her to follow me into the front door of the building. Every time she'd balk and head back outside I'd calmly and quietly follow her back outside, wait a few minutes, and then begin talking to her and coaxing her to follow me again.  Each time we got a little further.

The whole thing took about 4 and a half hours, but eventually she came into my apartment.  She was a little bit concerned that the door was closed and she couldn't get out again.  She probably already had a spot picked out to deliver so it had to be a scary situation for her; but I stayed quiet and calm and gave her a lot of space.  And resolved that I was not opening the door again until I had to leave for work on Monday morning.

"Holy mother of kittygod what have I done?!"

But Chloe is a smart and brave girl and knows how to make the best of things.  She decided my bed, the farthest point from the door, was the space she liked the most and that was where she spent most of her time, by the bedroom window.

She woke me, deliberately, to have me there when she had the kittens. Perhaps because of the four dead ones born the last time, she wanted me there in case she needed help with these. I sat on the floor right beside her and when the first kitten was born, and was well, she purred so loudly. And she's not a purrer."

 purr purr purr ... nom nom nom

And so came into this world Henry and Oliver.

Next week: We learn more of the challenges facing this new little family!