Bad week

It was a bad week to be a small mammal at my house.

One of the stray cats had a litter of kittens that had been living in the crawl space.  We thought she was too young to get spayed so we hadn’t trapped her yet, but I guess we were wrong about that.  Anyway, the kittens finally started coming out a couple of weeks ago.  One gray tabby, one black and white, one black with a white spot on the chest, and one all black (the mother is all black).

The black and white one got killed by a neighborhood dog a few days after they came out.  The tabby was killed the night after the first one was killed, apparently also by a dog.  The black one with the white spot on its chest developed a bad habit of hiding under the car to get some shade.  He escaped getting run over by the slimmest of margins a few days after the dog-kitten massacre day.  But then the next day he didn’t escape and I ran over him with the van.

Then another dead cat turned up on the porch a couple of days later.  At least I thought it was a cat — it had been all mangled and partially eaten and parts were scattered around the front door.  It wasn’t until I got a better look as I cleaned it up that I realized it was a squirrel.  I guess the cats caught it and brought it up to the porch to present it to us and had a snack while they waited for us to see it.

Then the all black kitten did not turn up for a couple of days.  We figured something had happened to it as well since the mommy cat was hanging around by herself and her nipples looked all swollen like nobody had been nursing.  But then the kitten turned up this morning and seems to be doing fine, so that was a relief.

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