Page 8 of Homeless


  I never imagined anything this small could be so alive. Newborn kittens don’t open their eyes for a few days, and their ears are still flat along their heads. To be honest, they don’t look a whole lot like kittens, but I’m sure Mittens will think they are beautiful. I think they’re beautiful.

  The kittens are all snug and warm against their mother.

  Suddenly, my mother bursts through the door. The vets working on Socrates look up in surprise.

  “I’m sorry,” Mother says. “One of my nurses heard it on the news. Was Sunita attacked by a rabid raccoon?”

  “We’ll let her tell you,” Dr. Mac says as she turns her attention back to Socrates.

  I take the sterile mask off my face. “Shh!” I say, pointing. “They’re operating on Socrates. The raccoon got him, not me. I’m fine,” I reassure her as she hugs me tightly.

  “Is it true what they said, that you saved two small children?” She cups my chin in her hands and looks into my eyes.

  “I had to,” I explain. “We were trapped. But the raccoon was distracted by the cats, and I was able to get the kids to safety. Honest, I’m not hurt at all.”

  Mother pulls me close and hugs me so tightly I can’t breathe. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” she says.

  I glance over at the heart monitor. Mittens is still doing well. “Want to see some newborns?”

  The kittens make quiet mewing sounds as they huddle against their mom.

  “They’re so tiny!” Mother exclaims.

  “They were just born a few minutes ago. I got to watch. Look, she’s waking up!”

  Mittens blinks her eyes, looks at each one of us, then closes her eyes. She’s exhausted. Her kittens are lined up next to one another along her stomach. Their fur is fluffy now. I wish I could pick one up, but I know they need to be with their mother.

  Dr. Mac walks over to join us.

  “Socrates?” I ask.

  “Will be fine,” she assures me. “He needed two units of blood and both of us to sew him back together, but he’ll be his old self in a few weeks. We boosted his rabies vaccine. I’m predicting total recovery. Knowing him, he’ll be proud of the scars. How are our littlest patients?”

  “Rather adorable,” Mother says.

  I gently pet Mittens’ head. “She woke up and looked at us once, and then went back to sleep. Her heart rate stayed the same. Is she going to be OK?”

  “Her babies are healthy and she’s safe with us,” Dr. Mac says.

  My heart thumps in my chest. All the emotions of the day, of the last week, are crashing down around me. I press my lips together tightly, but I can’t stop my chin from quivering. My eyes fill with tears.

  “Sunita?” Dr. Mac asks. “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head wordlessly, then turn to my mother. She holds me in her arms.

  Now that I know everybody will survive, I can really cry.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A week and a half later, Tiger’s quarantine is over. He never developed any rabies symptoms. I’m relieved for both of us—and very happy I don’t need any more shots.

  Brenna’s parents agreed to let Tiger and a few other ferals be released into their woods. Brenna says that when Gary released Tiger, the cat dashed into the woods like he was born there. Half of the colony went to the woods, the other half back to Cat Land. That was the compromise that Gary and Dr. Mac worked out with Mrs. Frazier and her neighbors. Once they understood that the TVSR program would prevent rabies, they were willing to try it. Gary’s offer to trap any other raccoons in the area helped, too.

  We’re gathered around the kitchen table at Dr. Mac’s, finishing the vaccination reminder list. Socrates is sitting in my lap, purring. I think he actually enjoyed his run-in with the raccoon. I wish I could get him to tell me what he was doing those days he was missing, but I guess that’s a cat mystery. What matters is that he’s home and healthy. And heavy!

  “A little bird told me you all have another dinner date tonight,” Dr. Mac says.

  “Yeah,” David says, “we’re going to Sunita’s house.”

  “I love Indian food,” Zoe says.

  “What is Indian food?” Brenna asks.

  “It’s great,” I say. “But don’t worry. Mother promised there would be macaroni and cheese for anyone who wanted it.”

  I was a little surprised when Mother agreed to let me have my friends over for dinner—and shocked when she decided to do a full Indian menu. She only does that for really important people or on holidays. She’s been more interested in listening to my stories from the clinic recently, and has come in to see how our patients are doing. I never thought I would see her act this way, but I’m not complaining.

  The five of us quickly finish the chores: sweeping animal hair off the floors, walking the dogs that are being boarded, and making sure all the patients in the recovery room have food and water. Just as we finish, Mother stops by to pick us up for dinner.

  “Hope I’m not too early,” she says.

  “We’re almost done,” I say. “I just want to check Mittens and her family before we go.”

  Mother grins. When she smiles like that, she is the most beautiful woman in the world. “I’ll come with you,” she says.

  Wow. Is this my mother?

  Mittens and her kittens are resting in a roomy cage in the recovery room. Mittens looks at Mother and me and purrs like a queen receiving her visitors. Her kittens are just opening their eyes. Three of them are white, and two are tuxedos just like their mom.

  I open the cage door and scratch behind Mittens’ ears. She purrs louder and stretches her neck out, trying to smell Mother’s hand. Mother looks nervous, but she extends her hand a few inches. Mittens bumps her head against Mother’s fingertips. Mother smiles shyly.

  “Well, this is one cat that doesn’t scare me,” Mother says.

  “Cats aren’t scary,” I say. “I got bit because I made a mistake. Cats that are raised around people are the best pets in the world. They’re smart and loving. But you have to understand and respect them.”

  “Giving our new family a checkup?” Dr. Mac asks as she comes into the recovery room. “Tomorrow I’m going to contact some of our regular clients to try to find someone who could temporarily take in Mittens and her brood until the kittens are old enough to leave her. It would be much better for them to be in a house than back here in recovery. They would socialize better and wind up being friendlier cats.”

  “No need, J.J.,” my mother says. “We’ll take them home with us.”

  “Wh-what did you say?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

  “Nothing permanent, no promises, Sunita. But if you want, we can be Mittens’ foster family for a while. I recently read a report about what good pets cats make.” She winks. “And you heard Dr. Mac—they need a lot of human contact. Between you and the twins, that shouldn’t be a problem. Maybe I could help out, too. A little.”

  She struggles to stay upright as I throw myself at her and give her a big squeeze.

  “Meeoww!” Mittens cries.

  “You’d better see what she wants,” Mother says.

  I grin. “She doesn’t want anything. She’s just happy. As happy as I am!”

  Feline Feelings

  BY J.J. MACKENZIE, D.V.M.

  Some people say that cats are aloof—that they don’t show their feelings and can act a little stuck-up. Others accuse cats of being unfriendly because they don’t respond to commands the way dogs do. This isn’t the case at all. Your cat can tell you how she feels about you in many different ways. You just need to know how to read her signals.

  READING THE SIGNS

  She purrs. Purring is a mysterious sound, but it usually means your cat is cozy and content. A mother cat purrs when her babies are nursing, and cats sitting close to one another will purr in a friendly way. If your cat is in your lap and she’s purring, she’s telling you that she feels safe and secure.

  She kneads her front paws. Kneading, or pus
hing back and forth with the front paws, is another affectionate sign. Young kittens knead their mother’s teats to help the milk flow. The soft, warm lap of a human may remind a cat of her kitten days, and in kneading, she is treating you like her mom. If your cat sees you as her mother, that’s a compliment!

  A WARM LAP She greets you REMINDS A CAT OF with a “Meow!” HER KITTEN DAYS.

  Not all cats are vocal, but most will greet their owners with a “Meow!” when they come home or walk into a room. It might mean “Feed me,” or “I missed you!” Whatever the translation, your cat knows you are part of the family, and she’s glad you are there.

  She keeps her ears pointed up and facing forward. If your cat is feeling threatened or afraid, she’ll flatten her ears against her head. This protects the ears from attack. If she is feeling confident and content, her ears will be upright, swiveling every now and then to hear what is going on around her.

  She bumps her head against your leg. This is called “chinning.” Cats have special glands around their chins, lips, and the tops of their heads. When she rubs her head or the side of her mouth against your hand or leg, she’s marking you, telling all the other cats in the world that you belong to her.

  She licks you. Not all cats do this, but some will lick their owner’s hand while they are being petted. If your cat does this, she may be grooming you. Cats will sometimes groom other cats, or other pets they are friendly with such as a dog. This grooming is a sign of closeness.

  She yawns. A yawn is a reassuring signal. If your cat yawns as you walk into a room, she’s saying, “Oh, hi, there you are.”

  She sleeps with you. Cats are particular about their sleeping places. They need to be warm and feel very secure. If your cat sleeps with you, then she trusts that you won’t hurt or startle her.

  She lets you pet her. Cats are fussy about whom they will allow to pet them. If they are uncomfortable with a person, they will walk away or struggle to be put down. When your cat lets you pet her, it’s a sign that she trusts you and feels good around you.

 


 

  Laurie Halse Anderson, Homeless

  (Series: Vet Volunteers # 2)

 

 


 

 
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net

Share this book with friends