Having rescued many a kitten and cat over the years, I was in no mood to do so again. The last two rescues had to be put down after trying to kill another cat and cleaning up blood stains from the murder attempts is not something I wanted to repeat. With the object of the attacks now full grown, I found myself praying not to have to deal with another kitten anytime soon.
Enter one abandoned kitten on the property with no sign of siblings or mother. This happened two weeks after the afore mentioned prayer, so let no one tell you that God doesn’t have a sense of humor. After howling for two days in the barn (loud enough to be heard from the kitchen) my dad decided to let me know about it. He said he heard a cat in the barn and that it had been going on for some time. The moment I heard it I said, “That’s not a cat, that’s a kitten.”
Yes it was so loud only an adult could make that kind of noise, but the voice was far too young. I figured it was a month or more old by the volume. When we got out there, I managed to open the top half of the broken barn door and looked around. The loud cry started again, earsplitting and right on top of me. A glance down revealed a tiny little yellow kitten – a very young kitten.
Not only did the young age surprise me, but the fact that the critter looked me in the eyes and came back to my voice after being startled. Not normal for an obviously feral kitten. Little did I know that was only the beginning of not normal behavior from him.
I easily picked him up and he began purring immediately and I knew he’d have to be cared for as the abandoned barn is not a safe place for kittens thanks to raccoons and roving tomcats. He was strong and very feisty, but his eyes were dark blue, the ears only just upright, and his side teeth hadn’t come in. Looking up info online, I decided he was between 3 and 3 1/2 weeks old, which meant formula as he wasn’t weaned and eating hard food.
So we gave him formula with a dropper and he wasn’t cooperative. Taking a gamble born of desperation, I soaked cat food in warm water hoping he could take that in. Oh he liked the broth from it and had a hard time learning to drink it, but I was still concerned.
I shouldn’t have worried. In a couple of days he had watched the hostile older cats and decided that he was a big cat now.
I’ve heard of two fisted drinkers and now witnessed the phenomena of the four pawed eater.
Precocious barely scratches the surface with this kitten. We couldn’t find a box that could contain him and he went berserk when put in the cat carrier. He was young enough to not be running or jumping, but his upper body strength was abnormal so he was able to climb almost anything. That meant having to sleep with the tiny character and not crush him by accident.
After a week, it was clear he wasn’t the runt of the litter and was probably the alpha. Wrestling, spitting, challenging, and tackling are his favorite pastimes being a typical boy cat. One problem is that he bites everything and everyone. I’ll be glad when he starts mellowing out even though he is good about not biting through the skin.
He’s come a long way despite an epic war of wills over the litter box. Brighter than the average kitten, he understood its use right away but would only use it if I went to the bathroom too. Then he decided it would be a funny game to resist being put in the box when caught peeing or crapping in the living room. Out he’d jump and arch his back, prancing at me before running to a corner of the bathroom.
I wasn’t amused.
At the time of writing this, it has been several days without an apparent “accident” and the litter box is needing constant cleaning. I may have won the battle but this is a smart kitten and only time will tell.
Naming him has been a difficult endeavor and it came down to one of the following: Zim, Johnny Rotten, or Howl. For the moment, he is dubbed Howl, which is short for Howlin’ Cat, Howland Owl, or Howling Pain in the… well, you know.
This is what the boy looks like now. Howl’s eyes are just starting to change around the pupil, I’ll be curious to see what color they end up.
It looks like we’ll be taking care of him for the long haul, I never did find any trace of his mother and siblings. There is a good chance the raccoons got them. I think he’ll turn out to be quite the fighter and hope to teach him to be a protector rather than a bully. The fact he is crushing on my #1 cat, Snooky, is promising.
I also like the fact she doesn’t run from Howl like he has the plague, but simply slaps him silly if he gets too fresh. Right now they are sleeping about three inches apart – he’s getting good at sneaking closer to her.
Welcome to the Boonedocks, Howl.
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