When warmer weather arrives in the Spring, mother nature generally goes to work. Primarily taking place from March until October, “kitten season” is a reference to the time of year when most unaltered (not spayed) cats go into heat.
If an unaltered female cat meets an unaltered male cat and is impregnated, the female can give birth to a litter of kittens a mere 60 days after conception.
Do the math… that means an unaltered female cat could have multiple litters of kittens during a single season. And did you know a female cat can be successfully impregnated as young as 4 months of age? This is why most veterinarians recommend spaying/neutering cats as early as 8 weeks of age.
So what happens when countless litters of kittens start popping out all over the place?
Not a lot of good if humans don’t intervene. When food sources are limited babies face the risk of starvation if the mom is not be able to produce enough milk. A newborn kitten’s immune system is at high risk for illness and disease, not to mention predators such as coyotes, owls and hawks.
Shelters and rescues alike are inundated with kittens during this time of year, and without adequate space, supplies and skilled volunteers many kittens face euthanasia. This is where you can help!
Learn how to bottle feed kittens (BE STILL MY HEART)
Learn how rescues are working to save more kittens
Learn the importance of spaying/neutering
Adopt a kitten… or 2!
All you have to do is buy a ticket and bring a donated item to support LYFF Rescue (list is on the website). Super simple and SUPER fun, all while you are helping animals in need.
The changing of seasons always makes me nostalgic because each is a more obvious sign of the passing of time.
I woke up this morning to sunlight streaming through our windows (finally) and old man Guinness sitting on my chest yelling at me to feed him. Yes he literally yells in my face each morning (unless Andrew’s alarm goes off first in which case he’s the one that gets yelled at).
This might sound terrible to a non-cat owner, but for me this behavior is a joy to wake up to because it’s an instant reminder that I still have my best buddy with me.
Guinness has been a part of my life since he was hamster sized – I could literally hold him in the palm of one hand. He looked like a Black & Tan beer so that’s why I named him Guinness. I was 22 when I got him and Rugby. The two of them traveled home with me every Christmas, moved to Florida with me, moved to Atlanta with me, and of course traveled cross-country to California when we made the big move out here.
Guinness – in his younger years – was an 18 lb handful.
I workout.
He learned how to open every cabinet and drawer in my various apartments – he even figured out how to open sliding pocket doors! I would come home from work and find him in all sorts of places. In my single days I remember waking up late one night to a loud crashing noise in my kitchen. Terrified I jumped out of bed, grabbed a baseball bat and went to investigate what or who had broken into my house. As I turned on the kitchen light, my gaze traveled across the kitchen floor to find cat food kibble EVERYWHERE. As my eyes followed the path of disaster, I then saw my kitchen pantry door wide open and counted up one, two, three, four, five wire pantry shelves to find Guinness happily sitting 6+ feet up where the cat food storage container used to be. It was 2AM and I had a 6AM flight to catch, so I guess he wanted to make sure I didn’t forget to feed him his breakfast.
These days he is slow, a little hard of hearing, and his frame has become smaller and more fragile. He has small cell lymphoma which we’ve been able to manage well with a steroid and chemotherapy (cats handle chemo better than people do). He can’t jump like he used to, so I have pet stairs for him to get up onto our bed. He spends the majority of his days snuggling with Letty – who we call Nurse Letty because she seems to sense when her presence is a comfort. And every night I fall asleep with his warm little body curled up against my legs.
Nurse Letty & Guinness
I know our time together is more limited than it once was, and therefore the time I spend sitting with him, petting him, listening to him yell at me while he licks my face in the mornings – becomes the most special and enjoyable part of my day. The joy and happiness he – and Rugby – brought to my life over the years is a really big part of why we do what we do.
I want to help people find that special soul who meets them at the door when they get home each day, who they can snuggle with, cry with, and binge watch Bravo TV with. Because in doing that, I figure I can help others experience happiness and connection in a world that is often filled with sadness and pain.
Do you have a similar story with your own furry family member? Feel free to share in the comments section below!
“By all the lovely tokens September days are here, with summer’s best of weather and autumn’s best of cheer” – Helen Hunt Jackson
If you follow us on social media you know our oldest boy Rugby has been battling some issues that come along with old age since last winter. He’s had a great couple of months and for that we are so thankful. However his body now grows weaker and our remaining time is short.
I remember losing my first cat. His name was Smokey and he was a dark grey Persian with yellow eyes. When he fell ill my parents tried all that was medically available but the time came where my mom feared he would suffer. The time was her decision and our vet came out to the house. I remember holding him while she pushed the anesthesia, watching him fall asleep. I remember how it felt when he died in my arms. We put him in a casket with his favorite toys and buried him in the garden. I stayed outside until nightfall, then panicked and collected all the candles I could find so that I could light them around his grave. I had just started my sophomore year in high school and my younger self hated the thought of him being outside alone in the dark.
I don’t remember much after the candles. Time passed and we adopted two Himalayan brothers named Coco and Sugar. They were loved and lived with my parents well into their teens. When they passed I was living on my own with Guinness and Rugby. The loss of Sugar and Coco felt sad but somewhat distanced and peripheral.
A good friend of mine joined me for sunset the other night and said “our pets are like little piggy banks of unconditional love that we pour all our thoughts, feelings and emotions into”.This description rings so true, and helps me understand why entering this phase with Rugby seems to have opened the flood gates to 17 years of nostalgia. The first pet 100% my own responsibility. And nearly two decades of time shared with him.
As I sit with him and listen to Spotify’s “This is John Mayer” playlist on repeat (long time favorite artist of mine whose songs bring to mind specific times in my life) my mind opens it’s filing cabinet of memories Rugby has been present for.
Bringing him home at 12 weeks old in 2002 and watching him snuggle himself against my pillows in the center of my bed. I was 23 and living in my first apartment in Atlanta after graduating from college.
Taking him and Guinness to visit my parents each Christmas. Just like kids visiting grandparents, I’d set their carrier down in the kitchen and both would stroll out about their second home where nothing was strange or unfamiliar.
Him laying on my chest and purring as I sobbed over losing a job… losing a relationship… growing up.
His fluffy little self curled into a ball snoozing in his favorite spot on the back of the couch in the first home I shared with my husband Andrew. This mental image spans seasons as the beautiful maple tree outside our living room window would shade the light through cycles of orange and red, to cold winter white, and back to lush green.
And now, the other night when we took him to see the ocean for the first time. How he watched the sunset with a peaceful knowing look on his face, as though he were thinking and feeling the same things as I was.
I certainly don’t share this to bring anyone down, rather I need to speak my feelings and acknowledge this process. I recognize this moment in time brings with it lessons to learn and grow from. One realization is hope that the space we are creating with Cat & Craft is one where you will feel safe to feel. Where stories of your loved ones are always welcome. I promise to have a stock of Kleenex on hand for us at all times. And together we will count on the silly furry mob of foster fur babies to provide us with the necessary comedic relief and bright joy of good times ahead.
