Happy Birthday Babies!

A year ago last week, we began our adventure of falling in love with a litter of kittens. Delivered by a stray cat who'd adopted our next door neighbors, they quickly became our responsibility when the mama had to be put down. The experience of hand raising these babies not only cured me of any left-over baby lust I had, but also turned out to be one of the best experiences the kids and I could have enjoyed. These kittens have graced our lives in so many ways.

We fell in love with each and every kitten, and each one is still so incredibly friendly. Our babies come running when we call, wrap themselves around our legs, climb in our laps, leap down from the loft when we least expect it, and heap up in one great big lump of purr when it's feeding time.

Hand-raised barn cats are way better than the typical feral barn cat fare found on most farms. They're no slouchers when it comes to catching rodents, averaging at least one "present" per day. The barn is, best we can tell, completely rodent free, the credit for which goes entirely to the babies. When they were only a couple months old, the mice were beginning to take over, evidenced by the fact that I easily caught two mice in a feed bag one morning which I promptly gave to my babies for play and training. They bring down whole rabbits, mice, voles, moles and shrews, and thankfully get very few birds since the rodents keep them busy enough. I wouldn't trade my babies for anything—they're fuzzy and loving and way better than any traps or chemicals could be!

**editing to add that they have all been spade and neutered and are up-to-date on their shots.

Trapped like a rat in a sinking ship...

Or like a mouse in a cardboard box full of kittens, anyway. Yes, I'll openly admit that a mouse was, indeed, harmed in the making of these photographs. You can see him cowering there in that bright little patch of sunlight, like a suspect brought in for questioning. He had the audacity and, let's face it, the supreme stupidity to allow me to catch him in my chick feed bag one morning. And, like the good kitty-cat mama that I am, I brought home a juicy little mousie so my babes could hone their skills.

At first they weren't too sure what to do with this mousie toy that actually moved, but they quickly got the hang of things, particualarly Monster and Shadow. Cally and Primo got in on the action as well, but Tabby hung back in the middle of the box as if to question whether any of us had any morals at all. The kittens, however, were all play and not much for finishing the job. Our puppy, Buddy, however, whom I suspect has a bit of Terrier as well as Border Collie (and lord knows what else mixed in), was just thrilled to thwump his big ol' webbed paw down on the poor little critter and proceed to strut around the yard with a tiny little tail sticking out between his teeth for several minutes, just as proud of himself as he could be!

Barn Cat Bonanza

After putting the mama cat down, we brought her kittens inside, and I am now the proud surrogate mama to five barn kittens. I can honestly say that until now I have never before wished for 6 breasts. Evolution rocks! Mama cat did her very best to mother her five kittens despite being a baby still herself, and she gave them the very best start in life they could've gotten--36 to 48 hours of her colostrum. If these babies survive, it will be primarily due to that gift she gave to them.

I went out and purchased a new cat crate for the kittens since our current one was in use by a quarantined hen, a heating pad, several bottles, some KMR formula and a digital kitchen scale. Our set up is working really well other than the whole automatic shut off feature on the heating pad, which causes it to turn off every hour. Apparantly, I completely missed that bonus feature when choosing the pad 'cause it sure wouldn't have been my choice to wake up every hour to switch the durn thing back on. Seven days later, I've now purchased two more wet pads without the bonus auto shut off. Live and learn.


Primo was the first kitty born and the one mama abandoned in the driveway. He hung out with me for about 2 hours the day he was born before he went back to join his littermates. Primo was the first to open his eyes at about 5 days--very early--which leads me to believe that he's gestationally older than the others. He came to us at 3.30 ounces and was the only one not to drop weight initially; he continues to hold his own as the second largest kitten in the litter. He's primarily a tabby with quite a bit of orange around his face, white on his throat, and a couple of black tiger stripes by his eyes.

4/2-- 3.30 oz
4/3-- 3.55 oz
4/4-- 4.00 oz
4/5-- 4.40 oz
4/6-- 4.90 oz
4/7-- 5.10 oz



Tabby is one of the smallest and definitely the whiniest of the bunch and pretty much the runt of the litter. He was dehydrated the first couple of days, but now at one week, he's eating like a champ and eliminating copiously, so I know his hydration is back to normal. He came to us at 3.55 ounces. He's a typical gray tabby with white around his throat line.

4/2-- 3.55 oz
4/3-- 2.95 oz
4/4-- 3.19 oz
4/5-- 3.55 oz
4/6-- 3.95 oz
4/7-- 4.10 oz


Shadow is a sweet little kitty and I think she's the one we found crawling away from her mama in a pool of motor oil. She cleaned up quiet well and is one of my favorites, perhaps because of her challenging start. She came to us at 3.40 ounces, and developed diarrhea and dehydration the first day, possibly due to the richness of the formula feed. I cut the formula to water ratio for about 24 hours, which helped rehydrate her and allow her digestive system to catch up. Shadow is a soft gray tabby with a white necklace--so cute!

4/2-- 3.40 oz
4/3-- 2.80 oz
4/4-- 3.40 oz
4/5-- 3.40 oz
4/6-- 3.80 oz
4/7-- 3.90 oz


Monster got his name because of how much bigger he was than any of his litter mates. He came to us at a whopping 4.05 ounces! He's a sweet little guy who was the first kitten to start purring. He's highly food motivated, and I'll be interested to see how his personality developes. He's a charcoal tabby with very dark skin, which is adorable.

4/2-- 4.05 oz
4/3-- 3.95 oz
4/4-- 4.45 oz
4/5-- 5.05 oz
4/6-- 5.45 oz
4/7-- 5.95 oz


Cally was the last kitten born, and as her name suggests, she's the only calico in the litter. When I changed the bedding Sunday morning, Cally was the kitten whose umbilical cord I found wrapped around her mama's leg, severely cutting into her tail. I was able to separate the cord, and both her umbilicus and tail are healing nicely, though I suspect she'll always have a bit of a kink as a reminder. She came to us at 3.65 ounces and seems to be a very loving kitten.

4/2-- 3.65 oz
4/3-- 3.35 oz
4/4-- 3.90 oz
4/5-- 4.25 oz
4/6-- 4.45 oz
4/7-- 4.95 oz

Feline Midwifery

Having moved to a farm with a three stall horse barn, we began our quest to acquire a barn cat or two, which proved surprisingly difficult. The humane society adopts only indoor cats and requires a signed contract promising the cat will not be allowed outdoors. So, we ended up with Mr. Buttons, Julia's kitty whom she adores and who wistfully twitches his tail while watching the birds out my bedroom window. He would have made an excellent mouser. But, contracts and commitments, not to mention the heartbreak my daughter would experience if Buttons ended up on the losing end of a collision with one of the vehicles that regularly whips down our road and Buttons is condemned to a lifetime of imprisonment.

When our neighbors' adopted stray showed every sign of being pregnant, we immediately offered to take one or two of her litter and then to have her spayed. The birth began March 31st, a Friday afternoon. When the first kitten arrived, the mama, still a 10 month old kitten herself, didn't quite know what to do. She just kind of walked around dragging the kitten behind her bouncing off the driveway rather than hunkering down somewhere quiet. Once the kitten was out, the mama walked away from him without cleaning him or really even acknowledging him at all. Poor girl just seemed utterly confused.

I took the kitten, cleaned it up and kept it warm for several hours and in the meantime, the mama birthed and cleaned two more kittens. Unfortunately, the spot she chose was a tool shed with pooled motor oil and sharp rototiller tines. We decided to help her along a little, and put her in a large dog kennel where she could be with her kittens in a shallow tupperware container and still have room to move around, have her food and water and a small litter container. Once clean and dry, she happily accepted and nursed the first kitten along with the other two.

The next morning, there were two more kittens and mama was nursing them all. I gave her a little bit of the open can of formula I'd purchased in case I needed to feed the first kitten, and she seemed quite content. We checked on them several times throughout the day, but were reluctant to meddle much further.

When I went in Sunday morning to give them fresh bedding, I discovered the last kitten's umbilical cord wrapped tightly around the mama's leg as the mama walked over to greet me. Much to my chagrin, I also discovered a blood-red mass protruding from the mama's vaginal opening. I was able to tease away the umbilical cord from the kitten and separate her, but her tail was quite lacerated. As I changed the bedding, the mama began straining in her litterbox and the mass grew larger. I immediately feared that it was a prolapsed uterus and guessed it had been exposed to the air for at least 24 hours.

After doing some research and talking with my vet, I confirmed that it was, indeed, a prolapsed uterus, which required immediate surgical intervention--only by now, nearly 36 hours had elapsed and, judging by the smell, it had definitely gone septic. The mama refused all food and drink and just laid down stoically nursing her litter.

Along with our neighbors we made the difficult decision to put the mama cat down late Sunday afternoon, one of the most excruciating decisions I've ever had to make in my life. Losing animals is definitely the down side to country living.