(Originally posted 1/25/20)
So for this special Caturday I’d like to share the story of how one tiny determined feral kitten saved my life. I’ve lived a tough life and been in many instances where people have reminded me that my life would be so much better and easier if I would just get rid of my animals for a while. They’re just cats. Get another one later. I’m sure these people mean well. I know they’re concerned for me and human life is more important to them than an animal. I understand their point of view but I don’t share it. I have always been an advocate for animal lives, a rescuer, someone who has cared more for animals than I ever did for myself. So allow me to share with you why these cats are my family and why I go to extreme lengths and make my life more difficult for them: Apple Valley, California: 2015
Apple Valley is a desert with pretty harsh living conditions. It had been in drought on top of that for many years. Water is scarce, plants wither and die, and wildlife consists mostly of ravens and hearty insects such as scorpions and black widows. You’ll see an occasional songbird or maybe a field mouse or ground squirrel. Or even more rarely a rabbit or a coyote.
In the particular neighborhood I lived in there was a massive feral cat community. The family I’m going to talk about in particular we know started from our neighbors across the street several years before moving out and leaving their intact pet cats to run loose in the neighborhood.
The rate at which cats can multiply when left alone is astounding. I’m sure if you’ve been around me at all you will know I’m a huge advocate for cat rescue and Trap/Neuter/Return programs. Where I live now in Minnesota this isn’t an issue as much you don’t have hundreds of wild cats roaming and dying on the streets here. But in California they are everywhere.
Without going into too much detail I was living in a very abusive situation and I didn’t have a very high opinion of my self worth at the time. I would likely actually be dead right now if not for these cats. I’m not exaggerating.
For several years the people I lived with fed the neighbor’s abandoned cats and every few months the mother cat, a tiny little long haired black and white thing, would bring her new batch of kittens around to get food. She had several litters before I finally started to take notice. Among her normal black and white kittens there was a very long haired kitten who had a silver body and a solid black head. I’d never seen a cat this color before and I’ve always been intrigued by things that are different. This kitten became my beloved lord of the strays, Floof, whom I lost last year. For his story you can go here: https://authorsamanthakroese.weebly.com/home/for-the-love-of-a-feral-cat-a-true-story
This is not his story. This is the story of a tiny little determined black and white kitten and her mission to save her kittens and her chosen human.
Most of momma kitty’s kittens were feral and wary. My Floof took two years and a trap to finally catch. The litter AFTER his though came three little black and white kittens. The long haired one didn’t survive long we didn’t see it after the first few weeks of them coming around. The other two however survived and were actually the friendliest of her litters.
I would talk to the cats when I would go out to feed my horse and they somewhat interested me and by that point I was in full swing trying to tame Floof. So I kind of ignored the others. But the female of the litter was very friendly and she started coming around all the time so the people I lived with dubbed her Cleopatra.
Cleopatra would follow me around and meow and such things but I tried to ignore her for the most part. I wasn’t really a cat person, I already had one cat I’d taken in from family that didn’t want her and I’d lost my orange tabby a few years before and taken it pretty hard.
Then Cleopatra got pregnant. And when it came down to the last week before she was to have her kittens she got extremely persistent about following me and trying to run into the house.
I wasn’t really allowed to bring any in at that point and I already had trouble protecting my calico so I tried my best to shoo her away, hoping as I think everyone there does, that she’d become someone else’s problem.
She refused to be deterred. She somehow knew I was the one that could save her and her kittens and in a final act of defiance she had her kittens in my dog’s doghouse right outside our back door where I would have to pass by them several times a day to care for the horses.
I’m a sucker for helping animals so at that point I did start feeding and watering her and I couldn’t resist checking on them when I passed. I had no intention of bringing them inside though I was going to take care of them until they were old enough to go on their own and that was that.
That was not that.
Cleopatra had two kittens. I refused to name them because I wasn’t going to keep them. But the moment the grey and white kitten opened his eyes he chose me. He walked right over to me and mewed, fearless and determined to make me love him.
I had been cleaning up kitten corpses left by the carrion birds for the last few months and I really didn’t want to see that innocent little creature die that way. So I made the decision to take them in. I made arrangements and managed to get the people I lived with to agree to me bringing them into the garage. I named them Dapper (grey/white) and Secret (tuxedo-because I couldn’t figure out if he was a boy or a girl for a long time!). Dapper became my spoiled baby and Cleo bonded very strongly with me and with Secret.
Well that worked for a few months then it didn’t so they were forced to move into my extra room instead. And I lived in an abusive situation, any time Cleo heard me getting screamed at she would cower in the corner and hiss like a demon and her kittens would scatter. I don’t think I realized the affects of what was going on until I saw how they reacted to it. To this day Cleo will hiss and hide if someone raises their voice.
I won’t go into much detail but the situation I was in started to deteriorate into something extremely dangerous that probably would’ve ended with my death if I hadn’t gotten out when I did. I was not raised to value my life and I suffered from depression and severe anxiety and I was pretty much agoraphobic.
I became so attached to these cats though that they became yet another thing that could be used against me with threats that animal control would be called and my cats given to them if I didn’t behave a certain way.
So when I say these cats saved my life that is what I mean. If Cleo hadn’t persisted in choosing me and Dapper hadn’t bonded to me like he did and I hadn’t felt the desperate need to protect them I wouldn’t have overcome my fear and gotten out of that situation.
Happily now I am in a safe place and while it’s not ideal yet it is beyond words so much better than what I lived through my entire life. We have our space and we’re together and it’s a peaceful life.
I believe Floof and Cleo were sent by God to save me. And in return I will always do my best to see that Cleo and her kittens are safe with me.
It's very interesting to me to see that Cleo and Secret are very bonded but Dapper is more independent and my baby. I'll catch Cleo looking at me sometimes as though to say "Yeah, that one's yours. I made him for you!"
As you can see they are all very well loved house kitties now and as long as I can help it they will continue to be that way with my sincere gratitude for saving my life.
Dapper is huge but I believe he gets it from this guy, Max, who I think was their father. Look at the size of his head! He was thin though because he was a feral. Unfortunately I was not able to save Max as well.
And this is the above mentioned elderly calico they share my home with, Cali, who is a very young 17 this year! She has never been thrilled by the idea of the kittens, as you can see in her expression. She was born a farm cat then taken in from a relative when they no longer wanted her.
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