Thankful Season?

Wow! 'Tis the season....

It is the joyful season, although some days I feel like it is the insanity season.

Last month was what I called the "thankful season". I celebrated each day up until Thanksgiving Day by stating on my Facebook page at least one thing for which I was thankful.

I almost used "I am thankful that the stray momma cat that someone dropped off by our place only had two kittens." But, then, I decided that being sarcastic was not expressing gratitude in the right spirit.

Buck is an old softy when it comes to little animals. He couldn't do anything to harm them. However, we both know from experience that if we do not take care of new cats as soon as they show up at our place, we are soon overrun. At one time, we were up to 21 cats in our yard. We were down to four for a long time--until momma and her kittens showed up.

After two weeks of grumbling about it, we gave in and named the cats. Momma is Gidget, the solid dark one is Scamper and the speckled one is Sparky. Of course, we have no idea if the kittens are girls or boys because they are feral cats. They do not let us near them. The only thing they get near is the food bowl.

No time is a good time to have to come up with a vet bill for spaying a feral cat that may or may not stick around. December is especially not the best time to come up with an unexpected vet payment. But, we knew if we did not get momma Gidget in pretty quick, we would be looking at some more cute kittens before long. Not good.

Once we were sure the kittens were weaned, we set out the trap for Gidget. Day after day, all we caught were the kittens. We did not want them yet. We figure they were born about September, so we will take them into the vet in January or February.

I almost dispaired of ever trapping Gidget when one day last week I looked out the back window and, lo and behold, she was in the trap. She looked up at me and whined, as if to say, "Please let me out! You always let my kittens out."

No, Gidget, I don't think so!

I headed for the phone. It was early afternoon and I knew my vet usually does spaying in the morning. I figured I would make an appointment. I started wondering how I was going to get water into the cage so she did not get dehydrated before morning.

I told the vet's receptionist I had a feral mama cat in my trap. "Feral" must have been the magic word, because she asked if I wanted to bring her in right then. Did I ever! Buck was not around to take Gidget in the truck, so I lined my car's back seat with a large garbage bag and towels, and loaded up the trap. She hissed and fussed when my son first picked up the cage, but surprised me by riding quietly to the vet's office.

Sparky and Scamper were a little out of sorts when they realized momma was gone. Once we brought her home, she hid out for the better part of a day, but then all the kittys were back to their usual routine.

I just hope Gidget enjoys those kittens of hers, because they are the only ones she is going to have.