I knew I’d never seen it before, which was a bad sign right from the start. I hoped our dog would chase it off. A few days later, I saw it again at the end of the yard, lurking under the stand of holly bushes. Hunting. “Well, it had better be a good hunter because it’s not getting any food from us!” I resolved.
Driving home from soccer late at night I noticed the temperature was down in the single digits again. Four degrees as we came out of town and headed up the hill towards our home. When we got out of the car, there it was and Samantha had seen it. “Could we, please, let it stay in the garage, Mom, so it doesn’t freeze to death?”
At that point, the rest of the story is classic, of course. My only hope was that my husband would say nothing and just take the cat and dispose of it quietly, secretly.
Six weeks later, with a dozen inches of snow on the ground and continued near-zero temperatures, the black and white cat, soon to be a mother, had been keeping warm in our family room downstairs. Sounds “classic,” but it was not simple! The household already included an 18 year-old cat who couldn’t hear and had to be practically hand-fed and was very vulnerable to attack by other animals; also, an overly friendly, rather large, nutty dog who didn’t have sense enough to stay away from a mother cat with long claws and who could easily, though not maliciously, harm a fragile kitten. The list of problem situations was long. Did I mention we traveled a lot and kennels are expensive? That we had just rid ourselves of another cat because it scratched the older cat in the eye and the vet bills were over $100?
Today, Samantha is naming the cat, although from the outset, I’d insisted she was not to name it. “Name it and claim it.” I can’t quite remember where that little saying comes from, but I knew I didn’t want any of us to claim this cat, but it’s like trying to stop the rain from falling or soccer moms from cheering, so I guess “Olé”is a suitable name although I do prefer “Adios” or just “Trouble.” No matter, though, because once the kittens are weaned the whole crew is headed to the pound!
The following poems are what I call "Mommy and Me" poems, where we each write a little and work off of each other's thoughts:
Catching a small little mouse
Acting innocent in my house?
Tilt that jug of milk my way.
Stray is my name and I'm here to stay
Okay, you big-bellied stray,
I suppose you’d say
you’re here to stay.
Not so I:
In my house you lie,
having caught my child’s eye,
But tomorrow you go
after your kittens grow!
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