Of kittens and pit bulls

Beverly Hills


Lately, it is beginning to look a little like Noah’s Ark at my house and I think the rainy weather is quite fitting. About a month ago, I was out on the front porch and heard a baby crying. I looked around for a few minutes and nothing. On the second night I heard the same little baby cry. I live pretty far off the road and not close enough to any neighbors to be able to hear their babies crying, so I figured something was going on. On the third day, I was getting out of my car and heard that same cry. I looked around until I realized it was coming from above me. Just as I looked up, I saw a tiny fuzzy orange kitten head staring at me, screaming at the top of his little lungs. Instantly, I fell in love. The only problem then was the fact that he was somehow stuck about 15 feet high up in an old oak tree.

I began to stack cable reels on top of each other, determined to get this kitten. Right as I took the first wobbly step up on my three tier cable reel tower, I decided I was not ready to win a Darwin Award and there just had to be a better way to get up there. I paced back and forth wondering if I should call the fire department? (They rescue cats, rights?) Should I try to climb the tree myself, taking the risk of my weight being too much for some of the dead branches? All while trying to find a way up, the little orange ball of fluff kept screaming louder and louder. Already, I was in love and knew I just needed him. It was love at first sight and I knew I needed to rescue this baby kitten that had been crying non-stop for the past few days.

Luckily, the internet repair man appeared later on that day and low and behold, he had a ladder with him. So I handed him a pillow case to catch the kitten. Sure enough, he took the climb and brought down a kitten in a pillow case for me as I was jumping up and down with such joy. I instantly went inside to wash off the kitten and calm him down. He was skinny, scared and dirty. I gave him a bath and wrapped him in a towel, comforting him just as a mother would a newborn child. I returned to the front lawn to thank the internet man, just as he was climbing down the ladder again, this time, holding a pillow case of three more screaming baby kittens. (Uh oh) I had no clue there were MORE!

I took them, however, and gave them the same loving treatment of a warm bath and comb over. Later on, while bottle feeding them cat milk bought from the store, my mom recommended I named the first kitten, Oakley, of course due to being found in an oak tree. I said I was not going to name the others, because there was no way I could take care of 4 kittens (it’s just a known rule that once you name an animal it will become a pet). Well, a month later … and they have all been named … three orange tabbies and one calico. Oakley, Calli (for Calico), Pete, and Fireball (he’s a fat orange cat who is mean as fire when it comes to feeding time). Now, the kittens have taken to latching onto me, and are following me everywhere. And by everywhere I mean EVERY. SINGLE. WHERE. I cannot even go to the restroom without the kittens following me in there. (Is this what motherhood is like?)

On top of the 4 kittens, I also recently had a rescued pit bull join in the circus. Her name is Libby and she is about five years old. At first Libby was terrified of the kittens. She didn’t quite understand what they were and why they are so hyper, wanting to play all the time. She definitely breaks the stereotypes of pit bulls, being scared of the kittens, but she has now become a big helper in taking care them. She breathes on them and comforts them when they cry as well.

I love my little zoo, and am glad I did end up naming all the kittens, as they all are such a big part of my world now. I hate to sound like the crazy cat lady, but I love how they follow me like little ducks in a line, and how they lie on my lap to receive their after-dinner-belly rubs, and how they jump on my bed in the morning to wake me up. It may be looking like Noah’s Ark over here, but being a fur-mom is just purrrrfect!

Update: Another dog has found his way to my front porch. He kept begging to come inside (I think the animals have been talking). “Go to Beverly’s, she’ll take care of ya!” (I’m beginning to feel sorry for Noah’s wife. Maybe this is why unicorns don’t exist. It was time to close the gates to that ark and they had too many animals. But ... of course, I had to feed him and pet him … and let him inside from the rain. Luckily, this time he will have an owner soon.

Beverly Hills is a Clayton State Alumni who enjoys writing for The Henry County Times and taking care of her new pets.