The Intensive Day-Care Ward

I came home last evening to find a makeshift assembly of corrugated boxes in one corner of the living room looking for all the world like one of the forts we kids would build on a rainy Saturday. Four or five smaller boxes, on their sides, formed a kind of corral in which rested a large carton on its side.

The large carton was the one in which the kittens had been living out in the lanai.

The kittens were all in the house. As was Little Gray Mama. Who had been on the receiving end of a mauling.

My brother found her in the lanai earlier that afternoon with several impressive gashes in her right side (and possibly a couple of puncture wounds, as well). He pulled everyone inside and then rushed her to the vet who pumped her full of antibiotics and ran a bunch of tests. (No feline leukemia. Other results to come.) The vet shaved the wounded area in order to clean it out and actually made it look worse as now there is a palm-sized furless patch of pink skin which looks more like a bite was taken out of it than just slashy scratches. Whoever she fought with was larger than her. The parallel scratches are long and widely spaced. She took two, possibly three, hits to her right side and what looks like a bite to the butt. She's limping a little, favoring her left hind leg. My brother said she was very quiet and cooperative at the vet. I think she might have been, and might still be, in shock. He brought her home after two hours and went off to work.

LGM was in the kitchen lying by her food dish when I came home. The kittens went berserk as soon as they heard me come in and began mewling, squeaking and chirping nonstop. They also began jumping, clawing and scrabbling their way out of the corral. It only took a couple of minutes for the first one to figure out how to leverage herself up at the intersection of two cartons after which it became a running battle to catch a loose kitten and dump her back in before the next one got free. At one point, LGM got up and hid in the pantry. There were three of them gamboling about the living room before I found a couple more cartons and placed them at the corners of the corral. (Think turrets at the angles of a castle's curtain wall.) It didn't work 100% but it did slow them down enough for me to be able to fix dinner.

Little Gray Mama was totally disinterested for most of the evening and paid no attention to the kids except for one venture to look over the wall when they were being particularly vocal. When my brother came home we opened up the wall figuring they might be hungry and momma might not be able to get over the barrier. They all came tumbling out but only to explore. Not one of the kittens even tried to nuzzle her. They did follow me around as if they'd imprinted on me. I could go up and down the hallway with a line of them behind. The biggest problem is being careful where to step as there are now furry little mobile land mines constantly underfoot almost begging to be squished (except when they're climbing my pants leg almost to the knee).

When I went to bed one of them parked herself outside my door and began chirping with the pitch, regularity and volume of a smoke detector with a dead battery. When I got up this morning all four of them were just outside my door snuggled up against a large stuffed mouse doll wearing an apron and cap that Mom had made ages ago.

LGM still wasn't in the mood to nurse, although the kids were asking for it by now, so I made a mush out of some of the kibble and laid down a plate for them. Three of them ate at least some of it but momma got into it as well despite having her own plateful no more than three inches away.

Meanwhile, Bartleby has retired to my brother's bathroom, which is about as far away as she can get from the rest of the house, where she has taken up residence on the lid to the toilet seat. One must now ask her permission before using the facility. I suspect she intends to never leave.

Update: And my brother just reported LGM has started nursing again. She must be feeling better.