Sasha, Rae, and Me

It was an afternoon, just like any other. I was driving home and noticed a small black cat lying in the road -- almost in the traffic lane. She looked right into my eyes as I drove past, not even flinching. I knew I had to stop and help her. As soon as the car pulled up, she ran up to me and started purring and rubbing against me. I found myself putting her in the car, where she settled down quite happily, purring all the while.

My two cats, 4 year old Toby and 8 year old Little Bit, were less than thrilled when I showed up with this teenager! Next day I called Rae to see if we could find out who she was and where she came from.  As soon as Rae connected with us, my two cats bombarded her with, "Who is she?  Why is she here? Is she going to stay? She'd better not touch our food!"  The new kitty immediately said "Hello!  Is this my new home?"  She told me that she was happy to stay, she just needed the freedom to go outside.  She also said she didn't know what the others were fussing about, they'd get over it, she knew how to be with other cats.  And she did. After a trip to the vet for a clean bill of health and a new name, Sasha, she settled in --Toby and Little Bit did get over it.

With lots of love and good food she bloomed and bloomed.  My sister the MD kept saying "that cat is pregnant!" When Rae asked Sasha about it, she said she would like to have kittens and keep them.   Eventually it became clear that there was more going on than growth from regular meals and the vet confirmed it.  Preggers!!!

On September 7th at 5:00 am I was awakened by an unusual noise and discovered a caramel colored kitten on my bed, with umbilical cord and placenta still attached, and Sasha having contractions. Over the next couple of hours she delivered three more black kittens.

Sasha didn't want them to nurse and they were crawling around with cords and placenta still attached.  Thank goodness for Rae, who made herself available for several emergency phone calls.  She talked to Sasha and called on cat consciousness to help. Sasha said she was afraid the nursing would hurt but, when reassured that it was necessary, she allowed them to nurse and felt better.

Next day, we went to the vet, who said everyone was very healthy and we had three girls and one boy, although I should be prepared to lose one.  I was determined this would not happen.

For several weeks, with Rae as translator, we weathered many interesting experiences. Sasha felt that now the kittens were out, her job was done and she could go back to her life of freedom.  She was quite surprised to discover that she was expected to stay home with the babies!  However, after a few days she announced "I've gotten the hang of it!  I love them, they're cute and fun.  I'm a proud mom," but still insisted she needed to go outside and would come when I called.  "I don't know what the fuss is about.  I don't leave until they're full and if they need me, I'll know and come back."

One night, when they were several days old, Sasha brought them one by one into my bed. They all snuggled under the blankets. I spent most of the night awake and lying very still, in case I rolled onto one of them. They were so small and soft and fluffy and trusting, my heart melted. Early next morning she took them back. She told Rae she thought I wanted that and would like it. However, after that she said she needed more privacy and started moving the kittens from one place to another and asked that I not come to look at them.  She found some interesting hiding places, finally settling them on the second shelf of the linen closet. Then one day when Sasha was outside I heard a thump and mew and discovered that one had crawled out and fallen off the shelf.  I started calling her and in the meantime, more kittens started coming out. When Sasha appeared I was standing there with an armful of her babies.  She just sat and stared at me. I felt so busted!!! Next thing I knew, they had been moved under the sofa bed and there was no way I could see in and they couldn't fall out.

One day she brought me one of the kittens, dropped it at my feet and walked away.  Clearly there was something she wanted me to do about it.  Once again, Rae to the rescue!  Apparently the little one wasn't getting enough to eat.  It wasn't trying.  Off I went to get formula and bottles.  I had no idea how hard it would be to get such a tiny, apparently weak, little thing like that to open its mouth, especially with an anxious mom circling around. Fortunately, I remembered my cat Ernie, who had passed away a year earlier, and who had loved to eat.  So I closed my eyes and asked him to please help the kitty to eat.  You know what came next - a call to Rae.  Ernie said he was honored to be asked.  He was watching over the kitten, who was now getting the hang of it.  He was teaching it to eat with gusto, but it would never outdo him!

In our next conversation Sasha said she was keeping watch, aware of each kitten's needs.  The little one would come along and was trying harder.  She was more bonded to them, felt her milk coming and felt better giving it to them.  She said the kittens were very content and there was a rhythm to their lives.

We were now all settled into a new routine, and awaiting the next phase of The Story of Sasha - kitten names, weaning, litter box training, and perhaps finding new 'forever' homes.