Sunday evening six furry little kittens ventured out of the metal scrap pile. "Mew! Mew!" they cried. As if to say, "Mommy, where are you?" They scrambled to me as I walked toward their call. Whether one is their mother or not, a child's call tugs at your heart. "Where is your mother?" I asked them.... as if expecting them to answer me. "Mew! Mew!" they continued to cry. "Oh Zilchie, where are you? Your babies are calling." I called for her. "Zilchie!" "Zilchie!"
Zilchie was our first kitten when we moved to our farm. She arrived with her brother from a colleague at work. She was thus named "Zilch" after my inventive son's favorite dice game. She has had two litters of beautiful kittens in the subsequent years. Of all our cats she is the oldest. And of course I give her special attention. Every time she has kittens I give her extra treats. I can't help myself. Perhaps I empathize. Raising children is exhausting work. Wonderful, exciting, heart warming, and exhausting. Especially when they are young. Young children do not know their boundaries. Have no idea of safety or danger. They know only of their wants. "Mew! Mew!" the kittens cried.
Sunday night brought storms and rain. I had hoped Zilchie was out on a hunting adventure. She's a great little mouser. I dreamed of her cuddled up with these six fur balls. Her keeping them safe and reassuring them. "It's just rain my little ones. The thunder will pass. Stay close to me and you will be safe." But Monday morning.... still no sign of Zilchie. And the six little gray and white now wet and slightly fluffy kittens cried even more. "Mew! Mew!"
I searched the garages. I searched the chicken coop. I called and called. But no Zilchie. "Oh" I thought, "She may have succumbed to the life of a farm cat." Coyotes, hawks, owls, neighbors with pellet guns, cars and trucks. Anyone of them could have ended her life prematurely. And in this case, the life of her six young kittens. And yet I searched more. "Zilchie!"
"Where could she be?" And I hoped for the best. Last year another new momma cat was hit by a car. Her three young kittens were orphaned. We tried to nurse them. We got kitten milk supplement. A tiny bottle. A warm cozy bed. But one by one the small kittens died. I did not want to experience that again. "Zilchie!"
Saturday evening I had emptied the SUV from the market. It was raining then and I was in a hurry. But Zilchie was not like the other cats. I had never seen her jump into one of our vehicles. But it wouldn't hurt to look. I opened the back door and gave a hopeful call, "Zilchie?" And immediately a happy grey head popped up out of the tables, baskets and canopy. She came running. I picked her up and hugged her strongly. "Zilchie!" I shouted to my children. "I found her! She was in the car!" Her nipples were filled with milk and she was quite thin. I brought her over to her crying babies. She quickly laid down and all of her children attached themselves and suckled. I think both Zilchie and I gave a collective sigh. "Ahhhh..."
My son filled a bowl with cream (a very, very special treat). He set it right by her. And yet she didn't budge. She nursed those six hungry kittens until their tummies were round. She licked them clean until they were soft and fluffy again. And then, and only then, did she drink her cream. After that she laid down in the grass next to them and fell asleep.
A mother's love.... speechless.
Today's Journey Joy - a found mama cat and six little happy furry kittens
