Mama Cat wandered to and fro through back yards and broken fences until the time came to give birth. Having watched the human female for weeks, she knew it was safe to stay and raise her children until the human female considered them a nuisance, and Mama Cat would have to move again. It was inevitable; all cats knew humans didn’t like them, but for the time being, her and her unborn kits were safe.
Shunned at first by the older Wanderers, Mama Cat soon proved she had the right to remain just as much as they. The older Wanderers were naturally distrustful. With hunched backs, they'd hiss and bat sometimes making contact, but she was used to being struck. Territorial and reluctant, the older Wanderers tried to get Mama Cat to leave, but she refused. Her only concern was the kittens she carried within. Standing her ground, they soon realized she was no threat. The older Wanderers’ defenses melted daily for they understood the feelings of isolation and fear; she was alone and heavy with children. Childhood memories flitted to the surface in their minds eye soft like a fair weathered breeze. Never quite able to hold onto them nor reconcile who they were about, the Wanderers pressed closer to Mama Cat while indistinct glimpses of another female from long, long ago whispered soft purrings of love and life lessons in their ears. The crotchety group of old Wanderers turned into an extended family butting heads, cleaning, purring and warming Mama Cat on cold nights.
Watching the human female became an obsession with Mama Cat. She was an odd sort of human and very different. Every morning she carried fresh food and water out to the shelter. At night, she’d lay three or four plates of soft food for those who wanted it and checked to make sure the shelter was clean, and sweet smelling. It was no wonder word spread of the human female’s kindness. Most cats came out of curiosity and rumbling stomachs; they ate and moved on, but others chose to stay, calling it home.
When the human female came to where the cats rested, she’d talk softly never looking directly in the cat’s eye. Not the least bit challenging, she appeared to be part cat. Mama Cat pondered how this was even possible, but came up with no answer. She’d purr, try to head butt the old Wanderers and bat at sticks in hopes that one of them would take interest and join in. Once on all fours, the human female even stretched out a hand in hopes of touching the oldest of the group. The long haired gray got up slowly. He was at least 14 winters and the alpha of the group. He stretched his hind quarters and approached her extended hand sniffing and licking it. The decision was made; the human female was accepted into the group. One by one the other old Wanderers followed suit rubbing against her legs, purring, and some even head butting.
Mama Cat was not as trusting, but the closer to the birthing she got, the more restless she became. Mama Cat saw how content the old Wanderers were when the human female played and rubbed them. She wanted that experience too. So, one morning at feeding time, Mama Cat decided it was time. She refused to be a scaredy cat any more. If all the old Wanderers trusted her, she should too. As the human female poured fresh water and laid out new food, Mama Cat began winding herself in and between the ankles purring as she went. Surprised, the human female stopped what she was doing and sat down. Reaching out one hand, she touched Mama Cat’s head and tickled behind her ears. Speaking softly to sooth, Mama Cat tilted her head in response and purred. Somewhere in Mama Cat’s heart, past hurts melted, and she knew she and her kits belonged.
By the next full moon, three beautiful kits--two black, one gray--were born under the Gardenia bush outside the human female's door. Due to the fact the three were boys and would grow up to be little terrorists, Mama Cat decided to name them Alvin, Simon, and Theodore.
