At 4:30 A.M., Betts and I became Grannies. Our young cat Spikette had her first, and only, litter. In a few days I expect le Button to have hers.
This a fault of the Alien, the little feral that appeared in Candie’s house whilst we were in exile. (Little horndog just couldn’t mind his own business.) He has a date with a scapel next week.
I was searching in the closet for Spikette, and felt wet fur. She came out with one baby, and then she birthed the other one in my hands. Such tiny things. She immediantly carried one back into her lair, and I gently set the other next to her. She is sitting there keeping watch over her kids.
Such a strange thing. I’ve been so used to the concept of death all of my life, but never birth. I saw magic tonight, even was a part of it. Our little girl let me touch her babies with nary a snarl. I’m staying awake and keeping an eye on the newcomers. (I think she likes me being close by.)
Yes I know that it’s about cats, but any new life here in the city moves me to tears, whether it’s budding plants or the furry ones, life goes on. Our city will come back too.