Living on a farm means that you are usually inundated with cats. I say usually because there was a time when we couldn’t keep a cat to save our soul. We knew that if we had a cat he wouldn’t be around for long because something would get him. That was the way of the farm.
Five years ago, though, something shifted and the dearth of the cats was officially over and we now have an overflow of cats. At one time last year we had 23 cats. That’s a lot of cats. It’s also a lot of cat food. I should probably insert at this point that these cats are barn cats. They don’t live in the house. I’m not that kind of a girl.
We now have 10 cats. We have had bunches of baby cats but, again, for some reason the babies just can’t seem to live longer than a few weeks this year. I’m not sure what the problem is. Anyway, we found a bunch of baby kittens last week deposited by our back door. They were about 3 weeks old and looked to be in good condition so their mama was taking good care of them. I didn’t pay much mind to them and went along on my way.
On the weekend, though, the kids found two of the kittens dead under our back step. The other two kittens were at death’s door. They weren’t moving nor meowing. I guess the mama either had left them or had died and, being inundated with so many cats, I didn’t clue in until it was too late. I know, bad cat owner.
Tessa was in tears over the fate of these kittens. She wanted to help the two that were still alive so she motored into nurse mode and took over. She found an eye dropper and began to feed those two cats milk. She found cardboard boxes and blankets and deposited each one into their own ‘home.’ She brought them in the house and attempted to nurse them back to health.
It was too late for the one cat but the other one, well, Tessa saved it. Within a span of 12 hours, Blue (the name Tessa gave her) was walking, running up steps and meowing to beat the band.
We now call Tessa the Cat Whisperer.