Monday, 28 November 2011


To give a bit of back story, let me tell you where the three little kittens came from. Living on a farm one is often visited by stray cats. Since we had our own loving female cat named Lafs (love at first site), we were not in the market for any more. I had always said, one is enough. But one day unknown to me a female cat had shown up at the barn door. My husband had taken her in and fed her. She didn’t look like a lost stray to him and he assumed she had been dropped off on the side of the road as often occurred, and besides this cat was pregnant.

The cat hung around for quite awhile making daily visited to the milk room for something to drink and eat. Eventually my husband noticed that she was no longer pregnant, and after a couple of weeks she disappeared. Then one morning while my husband was running the barn cleaner, one of the hired hands hollered, “Stop.”

My husband quickly turned off the barn cleaner and the helper showed him a little kitten stuck amongst the barn cleaner chains in the gutter that was being cleaned. My husband fished the kitten out, and proceeded to explore the rest of the barn cleaner and other areas of the barn to look for more. He assumed if there was one there could be more.

He also remembered the pregnant cat and how she no longer came around. It was probably that the kitten had gotten hungry and started roaming the barn looking for food. Up in the hayloft he happened onto two other little kittens, but no mother. She had apparently had the kittens, fed them awhile, then went on her way who knows where.

Now this mother cat was, according to my husband, a pretty thing and he said she was Siamese. But all the little kittens were black and white. Well, not all of them as one was totally black but did have a teeny tiny white spot under his chin.

So when I met the kittens, the little one who had hissed at me was the only female and the one that had alerted everyone by her meows in the barn cleaner. All of these kittens had their eyes open at the time so they weren’t freshly newborns, but were perhaps three or four weeks old.

And so the kittens came into our household and got named accordingly. The total black cat became Blackie. The black and white cat with the longer fir that had four white feet became known as Mittens. And the little female tuxedo cat who had hissed at me from the bottom of the bucket we named Spitfire.

The winter turned into spring and it was time for the kittens to try their luck outside during the day. All kittens were placed on the deck and let loose. Mittens took off down the road in the ditch where he had gone the first day we had found them. Blackie hovered close to the deck, not wanting to stray far, and Spitfire wandered off down on the back lawn to sniff around. At supper time they would all return to the house to be fed and they would bed down for the night in the sun porch.

One day while I was mowing the back lawn I saw Blackie and Spitfire fighting over a baby mouse. I was horrified. I stopped the mower and headed down to scold them. I let the poor little scared mouse get away and he ran for his life. Spitfire and Blackie were playing a cat game that I guess you might call Cat and Mouse. They would grab the mouse in their paw then toss the mouse in the air and the little mouse would land on its feet and scurry away…but not too far. Whoever had the mouse at the time would be watching and just as the little mouse got almost out of reach and probably thought he was home free, the big cat paw would come down on him. That is when I came on the scene and stopped this little game. But eventually on other days I saw it happening again. It got to the point that I could not always be there to save the little field mice.

Next time more on the lives of the Kittens Three. Happy Reading and Writing everyone.

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