Back to the Hill Folks

I went back up this morning, to the hill folks place, to the place with too many of everything. I was concerned about the lactating mom cat in my car, who was fixed yesterday. The hill folks hadn't found her kittens. They don't believe they're alive. I don't either now.

I got called first from a business on Queen. Over a year ago, the mom of someone who works there, called me, wanting to know what to do with strays roaming the warehouse. I said "Trap them. Let's get them fixed immediately." But, it never happened. Workers chased off the cats.

The cats returned and had litters. They found one litter but one of the kittens fell two stories and down in behind a wall. The son of the woman who originally contacted me, dug the kitten out of the wall and so far, it is still alive. He set a trap. This morning, he called, excited. He's caught one. He had not done one single thing I had advised, in the trapping. He had not lined the trap with paper, nor covered it and he'd left it set all night.

I chastised him lightly this morning for such behavior. An uncovered cat in a trap is a terrified cat. She'll be fixed tomorrow. Then returned. They don't feed them. She has already eaten three cans of wet food. That's just since this morning.

I loaned him another trap so he could try for more.

After I picked up her from him, and got her settled, I went up to the hill people below Lebanon, to return the four fixed yesterday.

I looked for the kittens after I released her and she ran right into big old rotted log fall. And then later, I searched again, when she crawled into the dozens of junked old spidery cardboard boxes under the deck. There are old tires, boxes full of glass jars, boxes full of empty tin cans, and lots of poop too. There was a little nest I found deep in the boxes, a flattened out old white plastic bag in the dirt. But I could find no trace of any kittens.

I think the nursing being done on her might be from her older kittens, teens and adults now.

Then I looked at the three young kittens, still in that extremely tiny cage inside her place. It's so tiny the mom barely fits inside it to nurse them and so they rarely let her into it to be with her kittens. It's so tiny, she says, she can't keep a food or water dish in there for the kittens.

"So let them out," I said. "Kittens should not live out their kittenhood in such a tiny space," I said. "Well, the dog would kill them," she said, as justification, as those two sets of innocent eyes stared into mine, pleading. I wanted to grab them and run. Run fast and far and never look back. I didn't.

The third kitten was in the bathroom breathing steam, she said. She finally brought him out. He's skin and bones and very dehydrated. This is because none of them are getting anywhere near enough to eat or drink. Mom is skinny herself and putting out very little milk.

She had ready for me the last unfixed female, except for the lactating female. She'll be fixed tomorrow and that will just leave the young mom with the three skinny kittens who needs fixed and that will be it, except for any of the three kittens lucky enough to survive.

I wasn't feeling good out there today. I was so tired and clogged up. I came home and slept three hours. I don't like to be walking at places where almost every step is likely to be into some sort of poop. I just wanted to come home. She's trying, that lady. Today when I was up there she was cleaning to beat the band. I know she'll get it under control. She wants to.