Last Wednesday evening, Rob and I went for a walk after dinner. As we were walking by a field, I heard a cat crying. I sent Rob to investigate just in case it was injured, because I could not possibly handle seeing that. The cat was sitting near the road, meowing relentlessly, but she wasn't hurt and appeared healthy. She was very friendly and, we discovered, VERY pregnant. She didn’t have a collar, and she continued to meow and look around like she was lost or confused or distressed. I insisted that we had to take her home to keep her safe until morning when I could call the shelter to see if anyone had reported her missing. So I stayed with the cat and Rob RAN back home to get the car to pick us up. He’s so good to me. While Rob settled her into the garage, I called around to neighbors, but no one claimed her.

When I went back out to the garage to see how she was settling in, she seemed very content and had curled up on some towels we put down for her. I noticed, though, that the muscles near her tail and along her sides were contracting. When I was a kid I once saw my cat give birth, and so this time I immediately knew what was happening. “Rob, she is going to have these kittens TONIGHT!" Of course, he didn't think I knew what I was talking about. A few minutes later I saw a bit of blood drop from her rear and I said, "HONEY! She is going to have these kittens right NOW!" And Rob, typical father-to-be, panicked. "Call your dad! Call your dad!" (Apparently Rob thought cats need someone to help deliver their babies and felt my dad was the best person for the job since he works for the Department of Agriculture. In an office job. Sheesh, he's so clueless sometimes...) I explained that cats are quite capable of delivering kittens all by themselves, and I was proven correct throughout the next hour or so as we watched the cat give birth to 5 kittens. My mom and brother came to watch the last 3 pop out - we sat around in lawn chairs drinking Cokes, no joke.

The next morning Rob and I went to check on them and we found SEVEN kittens! She had 2 more during the night. Rob kept saying, “Wait, count them again. No, that can’t be right. Please count them again.” Sorry Rob, there are SEVEN.

I’ve called the SPCA and no one has reported the mama cat missing; they suspect she was abandoned because her owners, may they rot in hell, didn’t want to deal with the kittens. She is a sweet, BEAUTIFUL calico we’ve named Buttermilk because that’s the name of the road we found her one. And cause she’s a good mama.

So lordy… now Rob and I are guardians to 9 cats. That’s 36 paws and 81 lives. I refuse to take any to the SPCA, so we'll be looking for good homes in about 8 weeks. Meanwhile, they’ll have to live in the garage because if Bridget gets whiff of this, she will be PISSED.