Random Acts of Kittens Page 3

  This kitten didn’t look too good. My heart started pounding like when I’d been lugging the bin.

  Could the kittens have been born too early? I’d been premature, and spent weeks in the newborn intensive care unit, the NICU. Every November on my birthday, Mami took out my baby photo album and told me stories of how if it hadn’t been for the extra help, I wouldn’t have made it.

  Frantically, I looked around as if a fairy cat-mother would pop out of thin air to tell me what to do. I didn’t see one, of course. Instead, I saw the kitchen clock marking seven forty-five.

  The shelter closed at eight!

  I put the camera away in my room to use it later and called the shelter.

  “Andromeda Cat Rescue, how may I help you?”

  I cleared my throat before I answered. “Oh, hi. I’m calling because I found a cat that had babies, and I was wondering what I should do. There’s six counting the mom.”

  The woman groaned. “Really? I had a call about a litter of babies this morning, and another yesterday. Kitten season isn’t even supposed to be until March, but I guess when it rains it pours, right?”

  My face felt like it was on fire even though I hadn’t done anything wrong. Calling had been a total mistake. I sat on the floor next to the plastic bin. I’d have to find a better place to put the cats. The walls were too high for the mom to leave easily to go to the bathroom and eat.

  The woman must have regretted her tone of voice because she added, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, you did the right thing. All we do at our shelter is rescue little ones. Thanks for calling, really, but we’re far over capacity. Most of my volunteers are out of town for the holidays. If the kittens were older, I’d be able to take them, but when they’re that small, they’re a lot of work. I just don’t have the resources or the necessary cat rescuers.”

  My heart grew heavy. “So you just let them die?” I asked, my voice louder than was polite.

  After a few seconds of awkward silence, the woman asked, “You said they’re with the mom, right?”

  “Yes, and she’s a good mama,” I said, petting the mamacat’s head. “There’s a small one that’s struggling to eat. What should I do?”

  The woman sighed in the way that’s never followed by good news. “She might be okay, but it’d be ideal if you took them to a vet,” she said, and I could tell she was trying to sound nice. “The vet can give you kitten replacement milk to supplement. She’ll also be able to check that the kittens don’t have fleas and ear mites.”

  “Ear mites?” I said, putting a hand over my free ear.

  “Just to make sure. If you have internet access, check for kitten care videos. There are a lot of resources online. Other than that, I’m afraid we can’t really help you at the moment.” Her voice sounded honestly pained.

  My mind was whirling. My mom had a soft heart; maybe she would let them stay. But if Mami even suspected the cats might have creepy-crawlies, she wouldn’t be happy.

  “In a couple weeks, we could take them, but for now, you’d have to foster them like our volunteers would,” the woman said. “Do you think you could do that?”

  I hesitated for a few seconds. I had never taken care of any newborn being ever, but the mamacat seemed to know what to do. I had no other option. “Yes, I do,” I finally said. “And I’ll check with the vet. Thank you.”

  She sighed, sounding relieved. “Fostering can be a lot of work. So make sure you include the whole family. Good luck,” she added, before she softly hung up.

  I thought of the work ahead of me. Taking care of kittens wasn’t something I’d imagined in a million years, especially not during winter break. But honestly, if it was going to happen, this was the best timing ever. I’d be home all day for the next ten days. When school started, and especially after Beli left in a couple weeks, then that would be another story. I’d have to think about it later. Like the lady had suggested, I could include my whole family in this project.

  I looked inside the bin at the small one and said, “You hang in there, chiquitito.”

  The mama was licking it vigorously, like giving it a rubdown. Again. She was spending so much time on this one. At least she seemed to know what to do. I hoped it would be enough until the vet could check them.

  I looked online for the closest animal hospital and wrote down the address on a Post-it. The place was just on Main Street, and it would be open until midnight. I wondered how expensive the vet would be, and if I had enough money to pay. Good thing I had some savings from Slime Supreme. Usually there had been nothing left over after I bought supplies, but after my last batch was sold, Mami hadn’t let me buy any more slime ingredients. So I’d kept the money safe in my underwear drawer, where I went to dig it out. Just as I pulled the bag from the back of the drawer, I heard the sound of someone opening the side door.

  “Ay caramba!” I exclaimed as I rushed back out to the bin in the kitchen. The cats were all huddled together, even the tiny one.

  Maybe I should’ve planned better, hiding them in the bathroom or something until I could prepare my mom, but now it was too late. Mami, Beli, and Julieta were walking in, and by the sound of it, Mami wouldn’t be too eager to head back out in the cold night to drive the cats to the vet.

  “I just want to sit in front of the TV and do nothing for the rest of the night,” she said. “Ah! Warmth at last!”

  The three of them saw me at the same time. Julieta’s nose shone bright pink, and under other circumstances I would’ve mentioned how on point she was with the season, looking like the famous reindeer and all. But for once, I held my tongue. Six feline lives depended on the crucial following seconds.

  Mami looked at me, then at the bin at my feet. “What’s going on?” Her urgent tone frightened me. “What happened?”

  “Mami,” I started saying, but then the mamacat peeked out of the bin as if she wanted to see who was talking. Beli and Juli saw the cat at the same time. Their reactions couldn’t have been more different. Julieta screamed like la Llorona, and Beli exclaimed, “Un gatito? Ay, qué cute!” and walked briskly to me, her scarf trailing behind her. When she saw what was in the tub, she gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

  “Six gatitos!” she mumbled.

  “Gatitos?” my mom shrieked. “Mami, for the love of summer, what do you mean?”

  “Shhh,” I said, not necessarily shushing my mom and my sister, but calming the mamacat, whose back was bristled up, prepared to attack these loud, menacing humans.

  When I didn’t reply, Mami came over and looked down at the bin. Melting snow was already pooling at her feet. It was proof of how unexpected this was for her that she hadn’t even taken her boots off or demanded that Beli and Julieta do the same.

  Mami was speechless. She just looked at me.

  “I found them in the shed,” I said, standing between the cats and my mom. “There was a raccoon, and it was after them, Mami. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t let it eat the poor creatures.”

  My heart pounded in my ears, and my throat felt so tight I couldn’t breathe right.

  “Ay, mi amor,” Mami sighed, plopping on the sofa in the living room. She put her hands through her long hair, which was wet and plastered on her head. “Cats? Six of them!”

  “I hate cats!” said Julieta. “They’re like vampires with their claws and fangs. And all the hair!”

  “They’re tiny,” I said in an even tinier voice.

  Beli was kneeling next to the tub, petting the mamacat’s head. This was progress. My mom hardly ever said no to my sister, but to Beli? Anything my grandma said was the law.

  “Let me explain,” I said in the calmest voice I could manage.

  To her credit, Julieta didn’t interrupt me. Instead, after a cautious look at the kittens, she put the kettle on, and while I told the story of how I’d found the cats, she made hot chocolate for all, even for me.

  Not wanting to ruin the moment, I left out crucial details, like how I had fed the mamacat the day before, a
nd how I’d left the shed door open because I’d been in there playing with the slime. Mami was smart, and eventually she’d put two and two together. For now, I needed time and the chance to prove I could help these poor gatos.

  “Did the raccoon bite the cat?” Beli asked when I told them about the fight.

  “I … I don’t think so,” I said, worried about the tone of her voice. “I checked all of them, and they don’t have a single scratch.”

  Beli looked at Mami and said, “Still, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have the poor innocent animals checked by a vet, Gina. Just in case. Besides, look at this little one. It’s too small.”

  Even without looking, I knew which kitten Beli was talking about.

  Mami and Beli shared one of those wordless looks.

  “It needs help just like I needed help when I was born, Mami,” I said, and even Julieta looked mortified. I might have been the one who spent weeks in the NICU, but it was my family, including my sister, who ended up with the painful memories.

  Again, Mami put her hands on her head. “I wasn’t planning on going out again tonight,” she said in a tired voice. “I have to work early tomorrow!”

  I looked down at my hands. This was the worst part of being a kid. I couldn’t expect Mami to go to work with no sleep. Beli didn’t drive, especially not in the snow. I was at the mercy of my sister.

  “I see you used the baby blankets I’d been saving, Natalia,” Mami said, and she totally sounded like she was whining. “And Beli’s hot-water bottle!”

  “Sorry, Mami,” I said. “I grabbed the first things I found. They would’ve died. They still could die. I called the shelter, and the woman there said they’re full, but that the vet could help, and—”

  “You called the shelter?” Mami asked. “What did they say?”

  “They’re swamped. They don’t have enough volunteers.”

  Mami’s shoulders slumped. “Why does trouble always find you, Natalia?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  Julieta and Beli sat next to Mami, in front of me. The silence was unbearable, until Mami took another deep breath.

  “Mira, Natalia,” she finally said, and I braced myself. This was it. Her final decision. “It’s late. I had one of the longest days of my life, and I’m grateful to be back in my warm home. I’m not a monster, so I won’t kick out these poor animals—” I gasped, excited, and she added, “Let me finish! Yet. I won’t kick them out yet. But why don’t you wait until tomorrow to take them to the vet?”

  The excitement died as soon as it had been born. Maybe most of the kittens could wait until tomorrow, but the tiny one couldn’t. I bit my lip to stop myself from arguing, and when I looked up, I saw Julieta looking at me in a way that made my eyes fill with tears for some reason. It wasn’t a mean look; it was actually as if she were seeing the real me for the first time in a long time, since before we started fighting over Mami’s attention, when I was my sister’s treasure and she was my everything.

  “I’ll drive her,” Julieta said, and it took me a second to understand her words. “What if they have fleas or something? I won’t be able to sleep until we know they’re not carrying a disease anyway.”

  Mami and Beli sent Julieta one of those adoring looks, and she shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal being this perfect.

  “Thank you,” I said, and to my surprise, it came out without any snark. Too much hung in the balance.

  Beli stood up slowly, as if every joint in her body hurt. She kissed my forehead and ruffled my hair. “You’re a cat hero tonight,” she whispered.

  “Drive safely, Julieta,” Mami said, and then she looked at me. “Do you know where to go?”

  I showed her the Post-it with the address, and my ziplock bag with my money. Surprise flashed across Mami’s face. She looked at Julieta and said, “Gracias for doing this, mi amor. Drive slowly. You don’t need another flat tire.”

  “Flat tire?” I asked.

  Julieta huffed and said, “It’s a long story. Ready to go?”

  Without wasting time, I picked up the bin and headed out, my sister following me. I stood next to the door, and Julieta got the hint and opened the side door and then the car door for me. The car was still warm, and we drove the few blocks to the vet while Julieta told me about their flat tire and the strangers who’d helped them get home.

  “Anonymous strangers?” I asked.

  “You know Beli. After five minutes, she knew their whole life story. She got their address so we can bring them quesitos, or chocolate chip cookies maybe.”

  Nothing she said surprised me.

  Maybe the cat angels were looking out for us, because the whole way to Main Street, we drove behind a snowplow, which turned in time for Julieta to pull into the Andromeda Animal Hospital. Once upon a time, the hospital had been a cottage, and now it looked all cozy blanketed in snow, a little light in each window.

  Before I unbuckled my seat belt, Julieta said, “I’ll go in and let them know you have young kittens. In case there’s a dog in the front office.”

  How did she always know the perfect thing to do? Was she born like this, or had she learned? If she’d learned, when would all the knowledge drop on me?

  She dashed in, and good thing, because through the cracked door, I could see there was a large dog in the front office. It barked as soon as Julieta went in.

  At first, I was startled by the sound that reverberated in my ears even though I was in the car. But then I recognized the dog. My sister knelt down to pet him, none other than Captain America.

  Waiting in the car was agony, but soon a woman in scrubs came out and helped me carry the bin inside. At that moment, another nurse was leading Cap to a small room off the reception area.

  “Your family’s waiting for you, friend,” she said in a cheerful voice that clashed with the mood in the room.

  The old dog could hardly walk, and his superhero cape hung to one side, all crooked. But he still wagged his tail when he entered the room and several people whispered his name with affection. It sounded like all of Meera’s family was gathered: Meera, her parents and grandparents, and her little brother, Bodhi, who cried loudly.

  What were they all doing here? Was Cap sick? He’d seemed like his normal self earlier today.

  “Old Cap is saying goodbye to the world tonight,” the nurse at the reception desk whispered, guessing my questions. “He’s had a good life.”

  I gasped and had to set the bin on the ground before I dropped it. Julieta’s eyes were shiny with tears, and she sniffed on her pink sweater sleeve. The Rogerses had always joked that Cap was immortal; he’d already been very old when Meera’s dad got him from a rescue when we were in kindergarten. The whole neighborhood knew him and loved him. Now his time had really come. Meera and her brother would be devastated.

  “Let me take the bin from you,” the lady said, interrupting my thoughts. “Come with me.”

  We followed her to a small observation room.

  When the nurse, whose scrubs had a print of kittens posing as the letters of the alphabet, uncovered the bin and saw the mamacat and her babies, her face broke up in the sweetest smile. “Look at you!” And then she turned to me and said, “The circle of life, huh? Old Cap is reaching the end, and these little guys are just starting out.”

  Julieta kept sniffling in a corner, and I walked up to the observation table to reassure the mamacat that everything would be all right.

  “This one’s very small,” the nurse whispered, massaging the tiny kitten’s back. “Much smaller than the rest. Let me call Dr. Michael.”

  She left the room right away. I looked into the bin, and to my horror saw the tiny one was very still.

  “No!” I said. My first impulse was to pick it up, but I remembered Reuben’s words. “Hold on, chiquitito. Hold on,” I whispered.

  Julieta patted my shoulder without saying a word. Her speechlessness was what worried me the most. Usually she came up with something positive to say about every situation.
Now she had nothing.

  Luckily the vet came into the room when the knot in my throat threatened to turn into tears. He smiled, but I could tell he was sad, maybe because Cap was crossing the bridge to dog heaven. Because if there really was a heaven for pets, then he’d earned his wings and more. My eyes prickled thinking of him and, honestly, of Meera losing her friend.

  The vet’s shirt looked a little rumpled, as if he’d been at work all day. Mami complained that us girls always got sick during the holidays; maybe it was the same with animals.

  “What do we have here?” he asked.

  I pointed at the tiny baby curled in a corner of the bin like the tiniest yarn ball.

  His face softened when he picked it up. His gloves were light purple. “So small!” he said, and it sounded like he was trying not to squeal like everyone else when they saw the babies.

  In the meantime, the nurse had prepared the scale, and carefully, the doctor deposited the kitten on it. The numbers flashed and finally settled on 60.

  The lady shook her head and made a note on her clipboard.

  One by one, the doctor weighed each of the babies. They were all much heavier than the first one, their weights ranging from 90 to 110.

  “Are those ounces?” I asked. Math was my kryptonite, but even I knew those weren’t pounds.

  The vet’s mustache twitched. “Those are grams; each kitten is about three ounces. Grams are more accurate in small creatures like these fluffballs.”

  “Oh my gosh! I never knew kittens were so tiny when they were born!” Julieta said.

  The vet smiled more widely. “Actually, these kittens are way smaller than average. Even the biggest one, this gray one, is on the smallish range of birth weight. Newborn kittens should weigh anywhere from eighty to a hundred and seventy grams at birth, and I’d say these babies were born within the day, right?” He’d put all the babies back with their mama but kept the tiny one in his hands.

  “I found them a few hours ago,” I said, not taking my eye from the small one, now wrapped in a towel like a burrito and mewing weakly. The sound was so small and fragile, but at least it was something.