Mimi is Poisoned

My little cat kingdom was rocked when Mimi went missing. I have Thomas, the big-headed tom, who sleeps wherever he wants to. Mimi was the mom, who had three litters in two years.

The first litter was four who looked just like Mom and Dad. They were healthy and I was hoping to find homes for them when one day, I think they were about two month old, they just disappeared! The first time that I couldn’t find them I was very worried, but a day later they were back on the porch. I couldn’t imagine. The second time they disappeared, they stayed gone and I could only hope they hadn’t met a grisly fate. Peter had wanted the solid black kit and he was sorry it went missing before he could take it back to Belmopan.

Then Mimi had a litter of three, but one died the next day. The two remaining kittens are now about eight months old. They are Gordon, another Thomas clone, and Molly, who really needs to get her fur dyed some kind of punky pink. She has this one odd white patch on her back that has me reaching for the food coloring when I get especially bored.

Mimi had a surprise litter four weeks ago. She let Molly and Gordon nurse way past weaning time and finally told them to knock it off about a week before delivering this last batch. She was the best mother. She babied them and went out hunting for them. I would find half eaten bats or mice on the back porch. She would want to bring her kill inside, but after a lot of commotion I’d get everybody out on the porch for the feast. Thomas always acted like he had brought home the bacon, but Mimi and I knew he’d been asleep on the couch.

This last litter consists of Neville, all black as the Neville Brothers; Percy, who may be a little light in the loafers; and Emily, a black and white clown coat. I have to credit grandson Corley with all of these names. (Hint: they are all Thomas the Tank Engine names.)

Well, Mimi nursed the babes and then went out for her usual night time stroll. I called all the big ones in around 10:00, but Mimi didn’t come. The next morning I was concerned that she wasn’t at the back door. There had been hellacious dog yodeling all night and I was pretty cranky and a missing Mom just topped it off. Thank goodness they lapped up a saucer of milk, so if she stayed gone for awhile I wouldn’t have to make a tough decision.

I went into town and got back before it started pouring rain again. We’ve been under a slow moving tropical low for days. It was around 10:00 that night when Mimi pried open the screen door and trotted straight for the kitten box. MIMI! You’re back! Oh, you’re sopping wet, and I dried her off as she laid down for the frantic kittens.

But she wasn’t right. She was exhausted, I could tell that, but she was too unresponsive. I examined her without bothering her too much and there wasn’t any swelling or bleeding. But she wasn’t breathing right and just basically passed out. I was up and down all night checking on her and was passed out myself when I heard Ron tooting his horn.

Lord, I was supposed to be up and ready for Ron at 8:30 and I was stumbling for the door when I saw Mimi stretched out on the floor next to the box. Oh, oh. Oh damn. She was dead and cold and stiff.

Ron was merry and coming in the house asking how I was and I yelled, Don’t step on my dead cat! What?! Oh, God, what happened?!

Another day dawns in the bush.

I placed a towel over her and we reached for our cigarettes. Thomas is pacing around, Molly and Gordon are sniffing her, the kittens are mewing like cats four times their size, and Ron begins to tell me this hysterical story about when a horse died in their front yard.

I’ve got this dead cat laying on the floor and we are laughing like hyenas over he and Al and their workers trying to remove a dead horse that has it’s legs splayed out and impossible to get into the bed of a pickup. He had to drag it down his road to some place where he could pull it into the bush, by then it’s only half a horse… I’m just snorking with wheezy laughter.

Ron did me a real favor by taking her remains away in his truck. She fit OK in the truck bed, and I turned to face three, make that five, orphans.

It is working out OK, except Thomas and Gordon hate it when the kittens try to nurse them, and Molly hisses at them, but everybody likes the baby kitty food. I have to make up enough soft milky food for everybody, otherwise the kittens are stampeded.

Darn. Mimi was a real sweetie and I was fine with all these kittens since Mimi took care of them, but now I’m seriously going to have to find them homes. It’s a bit much.