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Tales from WannaBea Farm
Wading through the weeds we finally found the source of the weak mewling, a litter of kittens that were already covered with green blowflies. “They must belong to that gray cat that got hit by a car,” Gloria said, as she waved the flies away, and gently picked them up, one by one and deposited them in the box we had brought with us. Returning home, Gloria gently washed each little kitty and fed them with an eyedropper until they were soon purring contentedly in the little box she had fixed up for them, while her husband watched in disgust. “Don’t we have enough animals around here without you dragging home more?” Robert asked. I took that as my cue to go home. The phone was ringing as I opened my door and hurried to answer it. It was Cookie, my best friend, and as soon as I answered she started talking nonstop, telling me about her cat and its litter of kittens that she had been so mad about. “Thank goodness they are almost weaned now” she exclaimed, and this weekend I am taking them to the pet store and taking Sharmen to the vet to be spayed so she can’t surprise me like this again. Well, listen, I’ve got to go now, got loads to do so will talk to you later.” Click. The phone went dead, before I ever got a chance to say a word. “Oh well,” I thought, as I put the phone back in its cradle, “that’s just like Cookie.” The next morning Gloria called, crying. “I just don’t know what to do,” she cried, “I was up all night, feeding the kittens every two hours but they just get weaker. What can I do?” she wailed, “and on top of everything else, Robert is mad about them.” “Gloria, take them to the vet and let him put them to sleep, there’s no sense in letting them suffer.” “Oh no, OH NO, I could never do that, they’re just so precious, I can’t, but I’ve got to do something.” She just sobbed louder. “Well, let me think, I’ve got an idea,” I consoled her, “I’ll call you back later.” Quickly dialing Cookies number I listened in vain to its ringing. Fifteen minutes later, I tried again and then again, every fifteen minutes for what seemed like hours. But Cookie was not to be found. Crying even more, Gloria called back, the kittens were getting weaker. I couldn’t find Cookie. Gloria called again. I was pulling my hair out! “Gloria, I have an idea, but I will have to borrow your car as mine is in the shop.” “No problem,” Gloria said, as she handed me her keys and the box of kittens. Cookie was still not home when I arrived, so letting myself in with the key that she thought was hidden, I made my way down the hallway to the laundry room where Sharmen and her kittens were. Sitting on the floor, I rubbed Sharmen’s kittens all over the orphans until they all smelled pretty much the same, then started trying to get Sharmen to let them nurse. At first she wanted no part of them but eventually she did accept them and I left them happily nursing away while Sharmen bathed them, and I was thinking of how proud of me Cookie would be because I saved these kittens. That night Cookie called and as usual, before I could tell her about the kittens, she started talking nonstop as soon as I said, “Hello.” “You’re not going to believe what has happened!” and she proceeded to rant and rave about whoever did this and what she was going to do to them when she DID find out. Winding down, finally, she said, “If I didn’t know your car was in the shop I would have suspected you!” I hung up, called Gloria, and swore her to secrecy! HYPERLINK "mailto:jdstark18@yahoo. com" jdstark18@yahoo.com To read my other stories go to HYPERLINK "http:// www.leoncountytoday.com" www.leoncountytoday.com |
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