Special Delivery

Miss Birdie adopted us, knowing we would help her in her hour of distress. Namely, kittens.

I have a special peeve for people who do not take pet ownership as a responsibility in the same league as raising children - in particular, reproduction. No one wants their 10 or 12 year old girl child pregnant (although it is a horrendous fact). Likewise, I abhore seeing cats, or dogs for that matter, being left in the position of nature taking it's course which means they get "caught" in their first heat and have kittens (or pups) before they are a year old. Well before body maturity.


Granted, "Mother Nature" has created those bodies to take on the burden of reproduction of the species. As evidenced by the staggering number of unwanted and euthanized pets each year. Which is where we must take responsiblity. And where as the "superior race" we fail so miserably.


Our Miss Birdie is the perfect, and current, example. She came to us with a tummy packed with babies. She is under a year old, and being a "stray" could have had even more nutrition problems than she did. We fed her, wormed her, set ourselves up for imminant birthing, and settled in to wait it out. She held out for two weeks, two days. We hoped for a safe and simple delivery, keeping our fingers crossed for three or four kittens.

Birdie's immature body had other ideas. One of the things that kicks cats into labor is when the uterus gets too heavy. Birdie went into premature labor on May 27. She was never able to get into a full labor mode, despite having the first amniotic sac partially out.

It was soon evident to us (we've delivered more than one batch of kittens over the years) that Birdie wasn't having a normal labor. For one thing, she was running about, playing at times, leaping up to her favorite perches (which made us cringe, with that HUGE tummy), eating as usual (which means voraciously - that little cat can pack away the chow), and not settling into a "nest". Her favorite place remained the bathroom sink...


Now that is not only very unlady-like, that is one BIG TUMMY FULL OF KITTENS.

Finally, after hours of online reading, talking to two vets, and keeping an hourly log of Birdie's progress - lack thereof, anyway - the decision was made. With not a little trepidation, I took her in to the vet who would do an emergency spay, and try to retrieve any viable kittens.

Having my mind set on three, maybe four kittens, it was a shock, to say the least, when the vet called to say they had managed to get six of the seven kittens breathing. That's right. SEVEN little kits had been crammed into that abdomen, which explained why it was difficult to feel any movement. The vet staff had done an amazing job of getting those kittens out and breathing. The vet warned me, the kittens were very immature - it was going to be touch and go whether they would survive.

An emergency spay most often results in the fetuses being discarded with the uterus, no matter the stage of development. I had chosen this vet because they would at least try for viable kittens if they were far enough along. Which is a mixed blessing. Saving lives, versus adding to the overpopulation of cats in general. We made it clear that Birdie was the first priority, and if kittens could be saved, we'd do what we could to raise and re-home them.

We stopped by to see them before going to the feed store to pick up kitten milk replacer and feeding bottles - we had no idea if Birdie could feed them all, or how she would take to motherhood. She was definately NOT interested during our visit, but she was still so groggy from the anesthesia, we didn't worry too much. Cats have incredible instincts when it comes to mothering.

We brought her home snuggled into a blanket-nested box. Our first casualties were one of the muted grey and apricot calicos, and the black and grey striped tiger. They didn't survive even the trip home. Through the evening I made two more trips out to bury tiny tiny bodies. A dark black and orange calico, and a little yellow striped baby that looked like her mama.

I fed the remaining kits with a dropper. Only one had any sucking action, the largest of the litter - a black and orange calico with a huge orange heart on her forehead. The smaller muted calico hung in there, but had no sucking reflex. I had little hope of keeping her going. We went to bed, having decided to let nature take it's course.

I was amazed to find the kittens alive and moving and mewing the next morning. Birdie was trying to figure out this "mom" business. I was able to get the dark calico to latch on - hallelujah. She had a chance. I decided to call her Daisy. The small silvery calico was obviously meant to be called Little Mouse.

Birdie struggled with the idea of staying in one place with her babies. She left them frequently, to sleep on cooler surfaces. Her incision, plus milk production, was making her too warm. The kittens, unfortunately, need to be kept VERY warm, being preemies. What a dilemna.

We had to leave for the afternoon. I figured Daisy would do OK, she was in gear. Birdie seemed to be getting the idea of returning to the nest, she was licking and cleaning the babies. But when we came home, it was obvious that Birdie had not stayed in the box with them. The kittens were very cold. Daisy was in trouble. We were never able to bring her back. Our fifth casualty. Little Mouse was such a strong little thing, but I knew her lack of sucking reflex was going to be hard to overcome. She only took drops of milk replacer at a time. She was not gaining or even holding her own.

Sadly, we lost all the kittens. Little Mouse just now died, wrapped in a warm cloth on my lap, as I was typing this.

Our special delivery did not have the happy ending we had hoped and prayed for. But one thing has been a consolation. We believe that ALL things are created in spirit before being born on earth. And when that "body" dies, the spirit separates from the form and returns to the spirit world. Those six kittens had taken breath, the spirits were present. Those special little spirits had had the opportunity of mortal existence and will continue their eternal journey. At some point in our journeys, we will cross paths again. We have a bond.



Birdie is a delightful young cat, a nice companion and pet. She didn't deserve to be pregant then abandoned. Neither did her babes.

If you don't take care of having your pets neutered or spayed, I will come haunt you. And so might they.