Eeny, Meeny, Mieny, Mo - and Stillmo?


There is something about an early morning ringing of the telephone that sends little shivers of fear through me. 'What has happened?' And my imagination conjures up all the possibilities of bad news.

So when my phone rang before I had even gotten up that early morning, I was almost afraid to answer; but the cheerful sound of my daughter's voice soothed my fright. After my 'hello?' She came back with "What would you do with 5 abandoned kittens"? "Huh?" Was my reply. Apparently my brain hadn't started functioning "What would you do with 5 abandoned kittens?" She repeated and proceeded to tell me that when she and her son were getting in their morning kilometers they had spied something in the middle of the country lane they were running on. 'Road kill' was their first thought but a closer inspection proved that it was NOT road kill but, instead, these darlings little kittens.

Now my brain was functioning. "Bring them to me" was my reply. And so she did.

The kittens arrived a little later. They were scared, cold and VERY hungry. I have never seen a can of cat food disappear so quickly. It seemed like the bowl was empty before I got the spoon back into the empty can. Then began the business of setting them up on my front room. Potty box? Check. Warm bed? Check. Oh, and water? ….. I thought such little kitties would only drink a little water. WRONG! For the first day or so I couldn't keep up with their needs and finally put a much larger bowl down for them.

They had fleas, parasites and smelled like --- well, the south end of a northbound cow! My grandson came over in the afternoon and gave everyone a flea bath. None of them were impressed with THAT! At least they smelled better and the fleas were gone.

There were 4 orange and one black and orange marble. To keep them straight I called them Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe - and STILLMO?.

Now the question arose - what shall we do with these little guys? My daughter and I made a deal. She would provide the litter and food and I would provide the love. They were very easy to love and very friendly although they were pretty scared at first.

Our first thought was to find them good homes and with that in mind we put an ad on the Internet on a site provided for such things here in our area. Down in my heart I knew we couldn't let these delightful creatures go to new homes until they had had some medical care so I began calling animal help organizations in the area only to be told that all the foster homes and shelters were full with no room for any new animals. One group, however, was willing to come out and give them treatments for fleas and parasites. The lady that came out was amazed at the coloring of all of them. It is unusual to have an orange female but we had one plus the black and orange marble was also female and there were 3 little boys.

Now that they had become socially acceptable I opened the door to their room and invited them to explore the house. The two resident cats were most unimpressed with the little interlopers and quickly turned on the hisses and growls. Dundee has only been with me about 1½ years but he apparently had forgotten what it is like to be hissed at because his hisses were as ferocious sounding as Bonnie's. Well, let them hiss. The kittens weren't too worried about all the fuss; they just went about the business of being kittens.

They were SO busy exploring - each morning I when I opened their door feed them, I had to stand back because it was like a tsunami of kittens rushing out, and there would be books in the potty box. I guess it isn't only humans who like to read in the bathroom! There were orange faces peering out at me from behind books, in the cubbyholes of my desk, under the desk and anywhere else you might think of. I gave them a small scratching post and it wasn't long before that post was just one stop on the way to somewhere else. Then they got braver and ventured out into the rest of the house. Oh what fun they had with my knitting yarn. One day I had yarn strung from one end of the house to the other. They had races and tussles and OH, did they enjoy the toys. Mice and balls were everywhere!

Then we had a bit of good fortune. One of my friends has connections with one of the animal organizations and was able to arrange for them to go to the vet. Oh, joy! They didn't like being stuffed into the carriers but off they went for what they considered the unspeakable. When they came home again no one would have guessed they had had surgery. If anything they were more playful than ever and one by one they began going to their new homes.

Meeny became Tiger and went home to be a little girl's first pet. Miney became Max and went to be companion of Rocky. Moe became Tony (as in Tony the Tiger) and went to a lovely home with some other cats for his playmates. Stillmoe was the first one to go to her new home and I never found out what her name would be but little Eeny - who weighed only 3 3/4 lbs, went to a lovely home in a nearby city.

After Stillmoe, Meeny, Miney and Mo had gone to their forever homes, Eeny became more dependent on the resident kitties for fun and recreation. Bonnie still hissed but it lacked enthusiasm. Dundee had already been trying to make friends and now things were going along quite well. Once, I heard and then saw this streak going down the hall. The head of the streak was sable, the middle was large and marmalade in color and following close behind was a tiny marmalade streak. What fun they were having.

Eeny was full of mischief. She loved yarn! She would grab hold and pull like a puppy playing tug-a-war. Oh, what fun she had with that.

The day came when Eeny had to go to her new home, too, and now our house is quiet. The books are in the bookcases, the yarn is in the knitting bag and the toys are no longer scattered around the house.

What a privilege I had for those 3 weeks, nurturing some of God's little creatures. I miss them. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat!

Wynona Gordon

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