The Tale of the Kitties

I don’t know if I have ever told you, because I don’t tell anyone. I am going to tell you now so you will understand. I am what is classified as a super empath. I feel the emotions in those around me, including animals. I do my best to soothe and heal raw emotions and help people understand what I see so that they can cut through the B.S. in life and get to their true selves. It doesn’t always work. Most people look at me like I have two heads and others are freaked out because I know things they didn’t want other people to know. I’m not bragging. I have been told that it is a blessing to be so empathic but most of the time, it feels like a curse and makes me an outsider. Except when I am around animals.

I have mostly been ashamed to tell people how many cats reside at my house. I don’t know why I care what other people think, other than it is considered ‘crazy’ to have the amount of cats that I do.

A year after we bought this house, a truck drove slowly past our driveway and threw a Siamese kitten out of the window. We live in the country and it happens a lot. I have seen dogs thrown out of trucks and cars. I have seen kittens tossed out and even baby bunnies without the driver ever bothering to slow down. It breaks my heart, but I bury those who don’t survive the impact. I really hate people.

Anyway, this one Siamese started it all. She was thrown from a truck. She was about a year old and I started feeding her. She wouldn’t let me near her but she accepted the food, water and dog house that I gave her. Two years later, she had a miscarriage. I was sitting on my back deck and she crawled into my lap after I buried her babies. We cried together. This little girl cried real tears for her loss and I felt both broken and blessed that she shared that moment with me.

Later, she gave birth to my best boy, Possum and his sister, Jazzy. I couldn’t catch Jazzy to save my life, but Jazzy gave birth to a single boy…Sméagol. He is my precious.

So now I have these beautiful little Meezers (Siamese). I had brought Possum and Sméagol  in the house to be indoor babies but Mama and Jazzy still weren’t having any of it.

In steps Fate. Our neighbor was a cat collector. He had more than 70 cats of all varieties. He also cooked meth in his cabin. One night, a year ago, he blew that cabin sky-high. Literally. The flames nearly took out our home – 7 acres from his home. The cats scattered. Once he was arrested, the flames put out and life returned to normal, 24 of his cats showed up on my back deck. The rest went to my neighbor’s house.

Like me, my neighbor couldn’t allow them to go hungry. So we fed them and put kitty shelters on our land. Our local humane society was in turmoil because the manager had stolen funds so we couldn’t call them for help. Our local city run animal shelter would have killed them. These are nice, loving cats. We didn’t want to see them die and not many people want adult kitties. So we fed them and loved them.

The population exploded.

Last year, a veterinarian truck offered to come spay, neuter, give vaccines and put the kitties up for adoption at Pet Smart for a mere $10 per kitty.

After a year of demanding that I get rid of those ‘f-ing cats’, Mister flat-out refused to allow me to pay the $10 fee to get these babies healthy and find loving homes… even though it wasn’t his money I would be using. I had my own.

He threatened and lied, telling me we had expenses that I didn’t know about and then he suddenly decided that there were certain kitties that he loved and I would be a horrible person for ‘getting rid of them’.

So I gave him the money for our ‘expenses’….turns out that money was used to upgrade the phallus (his truck) and I continued to take care of the kitties as best I could.

It is now kitten season. All of the Siamese cats are now in the house. Those four cats gave birth to 18 kittens. Kittens that Mister thought he could sell for a profit. Only one kitten is Siamese. The rest are Tuxedos. He’s pissed.

Now, I find myself defending the kittens and their Mama’s against his aggravation that they were not all Siamese. I am cleaning litter boxes ten to twelve times a day and spending about $100 a week on food.

Here is why we are in this mess; Mister knew that I would not leave ANY fur baby behind when I move. That is why he lost his mind when I was about to allow them to be spayed/neutered, given shots and be put up for adoption. Now he tells me that if I leave him, he will shoot every single one of them. I know that he will. I’ve seen him do it before.

He knows that I will not leave until they are safe. He isn’t wrong.

My heart won’t allow me to leave them. They have to be safe and in loving homes before I can go. It’s a huge task. I keep telling myself, ‘one baby at a time’. He won’t notice one baby at a time. I’ll get them placed, then I can go.

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