Random Acts of Kittens Page 4

  The vet rubbed the baby vigorously with the towel, and another vet tech came in and handed him the smallest baby bottle I’d seen in my life. It was a mixture of bottle and syringe actually.

  “Tell me how you found them,” he said, putting the nipple to the baby’s mouth. The kitten nuzzled but didn’t seem to know what to do. The vet trickled some milk into its mouth, and when it realized what the mystery liquid was, the kitten started suckling hungrily. The vet smiled, satisfied.

  A little more relieved, I told the story again, but this time, I got carried away and accidentally let slip the fact that I had fed the mother yesterday.

  At this, Julieta sent me an accusing look, and with cheeks on fire, I tried to ignore her and continue my tale.

  When I reached the end, Dr. Michael said, “You did an excellent job.” I lit up like fireworks were exploding inside me. “You saved their lives.”

  I glanced at Julieta, who finally smiled. For once, I’d known what to do and I’d done it right.

  “This tiny girl here,” the vet continued, “needs all the help she can get.”

  “The mama?” I asked.

  “Yes, the mama is a very young cat herself to be a queen.”

  “Queen?”

  The vet smiled, and I didn’t know if it was because I kept repeating what he said. “Female cats are called queens when they have kittens,” he said. “When they give birth, it’s called queening. And she’s the smallest and youngest queen I’ve met in a long time. She only weighs six pounds, which is too little for a mother cat. She can’t be older than seven or eight months. Poor girl.”

  I didn’t know how cat years compared to human years, but she did look way small and young to me.

  “What does she need?” Julieta asked.

  “If you’re planning on keeping them at least until the babies can be placed with families, she should be on a weight-gaining nutritional plan. This little kitten needs to be supplemented until she catches up to her siblings, or at least until she’s within the normal weight range.”

  The vet flipped through the clipboard and the notes the nurse had taken.

  “Have you called the local shelter? The babies should remain with their mom until they’re at least eight weeks. Sometimes the shelter can take the whole family in, but sadly, they have more animals to take care of than people who volunteer. Their resources are so few, and they can’t take every animal that needs help.”

  I nodded. “They are full. They can’t take the kittens now because they don’t have enough volunteers to foster.”

  “Shelters do all they can do,” the nurse said. I glanced at her name tag, which said her name was Susan. “Shelter workers and volunteers are heroes. And now you’re one too. Kittens are cute, but of course, they grow up. There are too many homeless animals.” She waved a flat device over the mamacat.

  “What’s that for?” I asked to change the subject. I’d liked how she called me a hero, but anyone would have done the same in my situation, I thought.

  “To see if she’s microchipped. Maybe when the owners realized she was pregnant, they abandoned her. People dump their unwanted animals in the mountains all the time, thinking they’ll fend for themselves,” the vet said.

  “That’s so mean,” said Julieta.

  The vet laughed, but he didn’t sound amused. “Yes, mean and irresponsible, because in most cases, the animals just die. They can’t fend for themselves. Or maybe this mama cat slipped out of the house and didn’t know how to go back. Maybe there’s a family looking for her. Who knows? A lot of people are gone for the holidays, and sometimes pet sitters lose track of their charges.”

  I hadn’t considered that the cat had a family. What if she did? What if right now, a girl just like me was crying because she couldn’t find her pet? My mind sped wildly through possible scenarios, but I shooed them away.

  That girl should’ve done a better job at taking care of her cat, especially one about to become a queen, a mother of kittens.

  The vet interrupted my thoughts. “Nothing came up on the scan, so she’s not microchipped, or if she is, it’s malfunctioning. If you want, we can put up a sign here at the office and on our social media pages. Maybe someone will reply with more information.”

  My heart pounded in my throat. I didn’t want to lose her. I didn’t want anyone to take her away from me.

  “When they call, how can we know they’re really telling the truth? What if they’re horrible pet owners, and she ran away?” Suddenly, all the grown-ups and Julieta were looking at me, and I fidgeted in place.

  “I promise that before I make any decision, I’ll be one hundred percent sure it’s the best course of action for the mama and the babies,” the vet said. “But it won’t hurt to ask around. What do you think?”

  The vet’s was a sensible idea, so without a way out, I nodded.

  “We’ll call you if anyone answers our ad,” the nurse, Susan, said. Then she looked at me and asked, “By the way, what are you calling her so we can put it in our records?”

  Her question was the most important one of the night. I loved naming things. For example, my slime had been good, but part of what got people addicted to it was the names. I tried to look all calm, but on the inside, I was doing cartwheels. I hadn’t thought of a name for the cats before, but still, the thought process took less than a second. In my mom’s family, everyone had a name related to royalty. Mami was Regina, Beli’s name was really Isabel. My middle name was Victoria, and Julieta’s was Sofia. Since mother cats are queens, it was only natural that she also got a royal name.

  “Queen Georgiana,” I said. “Gigi for short.”

  The mamacat looked at me and blinked once in that way that I had started to understand meant yes. Julieta nodded approvingly, and I couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto my face when Susan wrote it down on the form.

  In the meantime, the vet was looking at the kittens’ ears and tummies. He had a sweet smile on his face, so I assumed he wasn’t finding anything to worry about.

  “No fleas or ear mites?” I asked.

  “Cats have ear mites?” Julieta said, covering her ears.

  The vet smiled again and said, “They can, but these kittens look totally clean.”

  Susan squirted some medicine into every feline mouth, including Gigi’s. “Dewormer,” she explained.

  My sister and I shared a look of horror and disgust.

  “I took a blood sample from them to make sure they’re healthy, and especially because I’m curious about this one,” the vet said, showing me the tiny rainbow kitten, which was now asleep and breathing deep with its full tummy.

  “Why are you curious?” asked Juli.

  The vet smiled widely and said, “I have a suspicion that she’s a chimera. See?” He showed us her legs, striped orange-and-white. “She looks like two kittens mashed up.”

  “I think she looks like a rainbow,” I said.

  “But what does it mean?” Juli asked.

  The vet shrugged. “Not much, other than her gene sequence is cool. Ah! And do you want to know what sex the rest of them are?”

  “Yes!” I said, thrilled.

  He pointed at the bigger ashy gray. “This is a boy. The other gray is a girl. The orange one is a girl, which is kind of rare. Eighty percent of orange cats are male. The black-and-white is a boy, and this possible chimera is a girl. In any case, like her mama, she’s a calico. Although, the mom looks like a tortoiseshell when you see her from behind; then in front she has all that white.”

  Gigi’s eyes were trained on the vet, as if she knew he was talking about her. When she noticed we’d noticed her noticing, she turned her face and gave him a side-eye.

  We all laughed, and the vet said, “She certainly has the tortitude, you know, the attitude of a tortoiseshell, or torti’s attitude.”

  “She’ll fit right in with our family, then,” Julieta said, and the vet and Susan laughed. My heart swelled with love for my sister. Did she mean she could see Gigi becom
ing a permanent member of our family?

  The visit felt like it had reached the end, but I hadn’t asked something that was worrying me. “So, about the raccoon, it didn’t scratch Gigi or the babies. But are they safe? I mean, rabid? She looks calm right now, but I tell you, when she was fighting the raccoon, she was a fury.”

  The vet chuckled. “She’s very docile, which makes me almost sure she had a human family or grew up around people. She will be protective of her babies, so maybe if she gets nervous or scared, she’ll overreact, like with the raccoon, which is understandable.

  “Respect her wishes if she doesn’t want you to touch the babies, but at the same time, they need to be handled starting next week so they’ll be ready for their new homes when they’re at least eight weeks. Especially the little one. She will cry when she doesn’t feel her mom’s warmth, so maybe it’s safer to give her a bottle away from the mom. Other than that, be careful and gentle.”

  “Careful and gentle is my expertise,” I said, and Julieta pressed her lips like she was trying not to laugh. “Also, is it okay to touch them, or will I need gloves?”

  “Only handle the little one for feedings for the next couple days, and then it will be okay to snuggle her and the rest as long as you want.”

  “Yes!” I exclaimed.

  “Okay,” the vet said, clapping loudly. Gigi sent him a look and Susan laughed. “I’ll give you a discount for today’s test since you rescued the babies and the shelter is full. Here’s a container of KMR, kitten milk replacer, for the chimera girl and the mama. She needs to put on weight too, and the KMR will help with that. You’re good to go now, but I advise that the mama come back to see me in eight weeks for her vaccines and to be fixed so there are no more surprise kittens. They’re lovely and adorable, but preventing unwanted births is the responsible way to be a pet owner.”

  Julieta was about to take her wallet out of her purse, but I said, “I got it,” and paid with the remaining money from my business. I’d have to find a way to earn more to support my kittens.

  When we left the office, there was no sign of Meera or her family. I wondered how she was feeling now that Cap was gone.

  If we’d still been friends, she could have come over to help me with the next stage in my kitten adventure. The kittens would make her happy, or at least make Cap’s passing a little easier to shoulder. But there was no way I’d let Meera anywhere near any of my kittens.

  On the way back home, Julieta drove in silence and I watched the Christmas lights reflected on the new snow. The storm had turned our town into a postcard. The bin with the cats was in the back seat, but I held the tiny kitten next to my heart. She was still wrapped like a kitty burrito, asleep with a full tummy. Now that she was safe, I’d be able to sleep too. That is, for a couple hours, I hoped, until it was time to feed her.

  “Are you sure you’re up to taking care of the kittens? It will be a lot of work,” Julieta said, finally breaking the silence.

  “I can do it,” I said. “If Mami lets me keep them for eight weeks.”

  Julieta didn’t reply. Her silence made my mind go into overdrive. Maybe she didn’t want to bash my hopes with a dose of reality.

  Eight weeks! That was two months. Sixty days. Now the babies were literally contained, content to only nurse and sleep. I’d seen funny kitten videos, though, and babies grew up to be mischievous kittens, a destruction, like Mami had said.

  “Thanks for driving me,” I said, partly to break the silence and shush the worries in my mind, and more because I really was grateful. “This little one wouldn’t have made it. You’re really kind, Juli.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road ahead, but she was smiling.

  She was the most responsible seventeen-year-old ever. That’s why Mami trusted her with everything and always said yes to her.

  My mom always said yes to my sister. I turned to look at her. My mom might not agree to letting me keep the cats. If I asked. But if Juli asked? Then I had a good chance.

  I didn’t know how to bring up the question, but we’d be home soon. I needed her as an ally.

  “What?” she asked, a smile still on her face as she eyed me. “You have that look you get when you’re plotting something.” She put a hand up. “I won’t be sacrificing my beauty sleep to feed the babies, so don’t even think about it.”

  “I wasn’t going to ask that, though it’d be nice if you helped.”

  “I already helped you by driving tonight.”

  It was true, and I couldn’t argue with her, so instead I said, “You’re right,” which took her off guard.

  “Now say whatever is on the tip of your tongue or be silent forever.”

  And they said I was dramatic.

  Which maybe I was. A little. I took a deep breath to calm my pounding heart. “Will you ask Mami to consider? Please, Juli? To let me keep the cats until they’re old enough?”

  “Is that all?” She laughed, sarcastically, my least favorite of Julieta’s reactions. “That’s a lot to ask. Besides, I don’t even like cats, remember?”

  Julieta might not like cats, but how could she not like the kittens?

  “You know how hard it would be for Mami to say yes, Nati Natasha.”

  Encouraged that she was using my childhood nickname, I hugged the kitten tightly and kissed her tiny folded ears. “Not if you ask.”

  Silence fell in the car again. I could already see our house and how sad it looked without decorations.

  Then, as Julieta was pulling in the driveway, she said, “I’ll only agree if you promise something.”

  “Anything,” I said quickly, my hands tingling with anticipation.

  “In that case, I want one of the kittens.” The reply was too ready on her lips. She’d been thinking about it!

  “One of the kittens?” I looked at her through narrowed eyes. “What kind of Rumpelstiltskin request is that?”

  To my surprise, Julieta burst into laughter, and not the sarcastic kind. This funny, hiccupping laugh, which was infectious and got everyone around her laughing, was my favorite. I laughed too. We only recovered when Gigi meowed from the back seat, totally sounding like a mom, and a queen at that.

  “Why do you want a kitten?” I asked. “You’re going to college in September!”

  Beli was waiting by the kitchen window, and she turned around to say something over her shoulder.

  Julieta put the car in park and said, “The kitten won’t be for me. It’ll be for Hayden.”

  Hayden was Julieta’s longtime friend turned boyfriend. Horrible at timing, the both of them, to get together in their senior year. He’d be attending the local college and staying with his parents to save money, and who knew where Julieta would end up? I hoped it wasn’t with her dad in California.

  The kitchen side door opened, and Beli poked her head and a hand out to signal for us to hurry.

  “Promise and I’ll convince Mami,” Julieta insisted.

  Immediately, the connection I’d felt with my sister dissolved. She’d only helped me because she wanted something in return, not out of the kindness of her heart, no matter how much she pretended to be all generous and thoughtful. But beggars can’t be choosers, so I gave in.

  “Okay,” I said, and then added, “But I’ll pick which one he can have.” I extended my hand for her to shake and seal the deal. She looked at it, and finally shook.

  With my sister’s help, Mami would agree to let me keep the babies until they were old enough. Then why did I feel like I’d sold my soul?

  * * *

  That night, I was up twice to check on the kittens. The first shift was at two a.m. When I peered into the nest Beli helped me make in a big box with short sides, all the kittens were nursing hungrily, even the tiny rainbow one. On the second turn, at five, the little kitten wanted to sleep as her siblings were eating. But she couldn’t miss even one feeding.

  Mami got ready to leave for work and watched me in silence as I prepared the syringe bottle.
While I sat on the ground and fed the kitten, Mami smiled mysteriously and said, “I sure don’t miss the days of getting up at all times of the night for a baby.”

  I didn’t know what I was supposed to say to that, so I didn’t say anything.

  “The kittens are for sure cute,” she said. “Too bad they grow so fast.”

  It didn’t sound like she was talking only about cats now.

  “Mami,” I said, turning my burning eyes in her direction. I’d stayed up reading cat facts way too late. “At least you only changed diapers. Gigi, the mamacat, actually has to make her babies go potty. It’s called stimulation, and she has to … you know? Lick their bums so they’ll go pee-pee and poo-poo. You know how cats clean up. They don’t exactly use a wipe.”

  Mami didn’t laugh like I’d expected. Instead, she shuddered. “Gross!” she said. “And you already named the bigger cat? That’s not a good sign, Nati. Don’t get attached.”

  It was too early for a fight. When I was tired and grumpy, the only words that bloomed from the tip of my tongue were sharp ones.

  Besides, Mami was leaving soon. Arguing wouldn’t help my case. Julieta would have to get going with her part of the deal.

  After a few minutes, Mami kissed the top of my head and took a long look at the little kitten. “What are you going to name her?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” I said, a little encouraged by her question. “I wanted a royalty theme. Maybe … Victoria? Vicky for short.”

  Mami shook her head. “That’s your middle name! What about Maxima, like the queen of the Netherlands? Max for short. Think about it.” She left for work, but by the smile on her face, I got the impression she knew I’d go along with her suggestion.

  Later, from the warmth of my bed, enticed by the smell of hot cocoa and sweet bread, I thought the conversation with Mami sounded positive. The more she saw the babies, the more she’d get attached to them. She was strict, but she had a heart.

  The sound of laughter made me curious. Who was over so early? I turned to check the clock. It was eight a.m. I untangled myself from the bedcovers and headed to the kitchen, in a decent mood even with the lack of sleep. My heart fluttered anticipating seeing the kittens.