Good Friends, Good Cats

I had one of the most enjoyable weekends I’ve had in memory. Good friends, good cats.

It seems only yesterday that my arms were criss-crossed with tiny little scratch marks from Reggie attacking me to feed him.

They were orphaned at 17 days old when their mother went hunting and never came back (I fear the neighbor, who had no love for cats, was responsible). There was no way I could let the poor little things die, so I began feeding them first kitten formula, then switched to goat milk.

They lived in a tall cardboard box (until they learned to climb) and nestled on a heating pad for warmth.

Feeding time was always chaotic. They were screaming for food, I’d be talking to them as I warmed their milk in the microwave.

I quickly learned that the only way to shut up Reggie was to feed him enough to quiet him, then rotate the bottle between them until they all had full tummies. Reggie would always wrap his tiny paws around the bottle and hold it as I held him when he was fed.

They grew quickly and one of the best days was when they started using their little litterbox on their own! No more wiping little tushies with warm, moist paper towels to simulate their mama’s licking so they would evacuate. THANK GOD.

Now look at them. HUGE boys. Happy boys – even Mack. He purrs when he is being fed and his purr is a roar.

John and Sharon relax with him, petting him, cuddling him, and he so enjoys this. Sharon laughs that he now associates being petted with a full tummy. What a disappointed boy he is going to be when the tube feedings are no longer needed and his tummy doesn’t magically fill with each chin rub and back scratch!

They are 3 of the luckiest cats in the world (especially “The Six Million Dollar Cat”) to have Sharon and John looking after them.