by Whiskers, matriarch of mischief Good morning, friends. I don't know what started me down this road but... Well, actually, I do. Grammy and I were having a quiet chat and a china mug of Tazo's Wild Sweet Orange tea while the rest of the family napped. It was lovely and peaceful; soft classical music in the background, snow muffling the outdoor sounds, Grammy with heating pad at her back and me snuggled and purring in her lap one paw on her tummy, one balancing my teacup. Yes, yes, I know... Sitting where I am I promise I'm being careful not to spill my hot brew in her lap. That would not be clever and I'm a clever girl so... enough said. Oh, that's funny... me sitting in her lap lapping up my tea. *giggles* Okay, that was weak but then so was my tea. Grammy makes it medium strength and I like it a wee bit stronger but she's the one with the opposable thumbs so I don't complain. On days when she's preoccupied and it sets longer I get it my way. Okay, I know I'm mind wandering here but remember we tend to do that in our 'middle years'. What are middle years, you say? Those times between being and raising little 'uns and becoming old timers. A time when responsibilities ease up and we can just sit, relax and reflect on our lives, a time when we still have our faculties before they become faulty or frail. As you know, Grammy was a foster mom and Mousie and I were her first fosters. A long line of fosters came soon after... some older, some youngish and one in particular was very young, barely out of kitten-hood herself, skinny with a bulging belly. Today we'll talk a bit about life around here with Miss Fidelia, her brood and the activities that we all got into while she was living here. Fidelia was a beauty. Cute face. Full of mischief... just our kind of kitty. On arrival she was about 3 weeks into her pregnancy, barely more than 1/2 her estimated adult weight with 5 wiggling lumps squirming and bulging her otherwise skinny body. Grammy had a mission... get this kitten nourished and her weight up to give her babies a chance. As usual, she went to work... feeding her, putting together a bed for the pending birth and planning a playpen for babies to roll around in as they nursed, slept, scrapped and gained their sight. AND all went well until the little bundles of joy decided to leave the warmth of mother's womb and enter the big bad world. Since this isn't something Grammy can dwell on let it be said that Grammy called the vet then they took a frantic taxi ride once she'd seen Fidelia's struggles and heard her screams of pain. Trusting the cat-whisperer vet implicitly Grammy returned home to await the outcome. It was an all-day struggle for mom and vet to get those babies out of such a wee girl alive. Sadly, the first one was lost. Later that evening Mom and four feisty, miniscule but scrappy, hungry balls of pending mischief were delivered and settled into the nursery. Then began the adventure of a lifetime. Daily scraps over one teat. Of course, the other seven milking stations were viable and on standby but all four floundered and fought for the same one. Grammy intervened and moved them to other spigits but cries and flailing ensued as they fought their way back to the choicest meal. Eventually all got fed and once satisfied the former scrappers curled up together and napped until the next feeding when the feuding began once more. Within a few days Etude, still blind for another week, was crawling up the blanket of the nest seeking out his as yet, invisible world. To protect him Grammy placed pillows on the floor outside the nesting basket so when he flopped over the edge he'd be cushioned. He and his sister, Musetta were intrepid explorers, though blind, and otherwise helpless. Determined, they were on the move. Grammy got a workout keeping an eye on those two. She imagined that was bad enough but once the eyes of all four opened all H-e-double hockey sticks broke out. Those scraps of fur were on the move. The legs were wobbly but there was no stopping them. Out of the nesting box, onto the pillows they flopped. Then a scramble/flop/crawl to the bed where they dug in their wee claws and climbed the sheer cliff to view their new world. Such exhilaration. All four would climb one behind the other then torpedo off the bed like flying squirrels. Unlike those fliers they would belly-flop onto more pillows that Grammy had fortuitously scattered around the bed. Repeat and repeat once more before flopping into a comatose nap-heap. And she thought this was chaotic … these continuous rounds of climb, fly, flop, scramble, repeat. At least they were contained to the nursery room. They were nothing compared to what was to follow. For the next 5 months the household, Fidelia, Mousie and I withstood the onslaught … more fights over the teat of preference, wrestling matches in milked-down food saucers, tiny pawprints tracked throughout the condo, and marathons around the condo with scrambles up and over upholstery, across Grammy's softer bits. lap or occasionally through her hair if she got in the way. Fidelia tolerated their mischief well... giving them smacky-paws when necessary but otherwise left them to explore their new world. Mousie and I retreated to our favourite shearling-lined chair (pre-Moth Day) out of the line of fire. And Grammy was kept busy mopping floors, washing dishes, bathing food-caked kittens and herself, changing bedding in the nursery and doing the never-ending laundry. Just as suddenly as they arrived sister and brother pair, Musetta and Scherzo, were spayed/neutered and adopted together followed soon after by Fidelia. All to good homes. Grammy has kept in touch with the 'purrents' and all three are thriving, happy. The household settled down into a less frenzied state of two mischievous boys, Mousie and me. But that was just the calm before the storm, so to speak. Stay tuned next week for further musings.... Comments are always welcomed. Mischief and Mayhem Central 2020
15 Comments
bronwyn maclennan
2/25/2019 04:02:53 pm
Hello Whiskers I really enjoyed your wee story and I had not read it before. You are very considerate to Grammy and I really appreciate that she was so kind to the wee furry babies and their Mom and gave them a good start in life which was wonderful, may I congratulate you on being such an excellent story teller you are amazing. Love you all. Take care.
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Whiskers, Matriarch of Mischief and storyteller.
2/25/2019 05:47:52 pm
Aunty Bronwyn, It is so kind of you to say so. As you know our stories get passed down generation to generation...and we have to have someone pass those stories along. That's my job.... but it doesn't stop me from getting into mischief with the others in the household. Grammy loved fostering the kitties. It was an experience of a lifetime... and we think it helped her to be focused as she recovered from an illness.
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Terry Loftin
2/25/2019 05:25:31 pm
I love reading about the early years !Can't wait to read even more clever WHISKERS!Love you dearly sweet family!💖💋💖💋💖💋💖💋💖💋💖💋
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Whiskers, Matriarch and Chronicler of Mischief.
2/25/2019 05:53:47 pm
Thank you, Aunty Terry. We love telling them and miss their antics...…
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Patrice
2/26/2019 01:38:32 am
Ahh, the memories! Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe I heard the name Etude mentioned in passing. Grammy, this is why I can't foster I would have so many kitties, they would over-flow ROFL My two keep me pretty busy as it is, but I wouldn't have it any other way!! Love all of you!!
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Whiskers, Matriarch of Mischief
3/1/2019 03:13:26 pm
Aunty Patrice: Grammy was in rescue a little over 2 years and reached her maximum by condo bylaw adopting all of us.... so she had to stop fostering for that very reason.
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Patsy M Fowler
2/26/2019 12:56:39 pm
I love reading your stories. I'm looking forward to reading more of the early years. Thank you for sharing your stories with me.
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Whiskers, Matriarch of Mischief
3/1/2019 03:15:30 pm
Aunty Patsy... go back to Into the Archives and you'll find a bunch of the stories of early years with Grammy and her pets. We love sharing. Thank you for reading and enjoying them.
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2/26/2019 05:56:06 pm
Oh my MOUSES your Grammy had her paws full. Wow. Flyin' squirrels, huh? WOW. But seriously, what's the difference between flyin' squirrels and squirrels that fly 'cause we have just plain ol' regular squirrels here and they all can kinda fly. MOUSES!
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Whiskers, Matriarch of Mischief
3/1/2019 03:18:31 pm
teehee, Seville. FYI flying squirrels have a furry blanket attached to their four paws that acts as a parachute. They can fly further and do acrobatics, I've heard. Mid-air summersaults and such, I think.Do your squirrels do summersaults?
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Emma Green
2/26/2019 06:20:07 pm
Awwww it's nice to hear about the beginning of mischief! ;)
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Whiskers, Matriarch of Mischief
3/1/2019 03:20:49 pm
Not sure the memories go back to the beginning of mischief.... We'd need Grammy's parents to tell that story. She taught us so it has been on-going for a lonnnnnnnnng time.
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Deborah
2/27/2019 04:31:42 pm
What excellent memories
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2/28/2019 04:31:53 am
What a really heart warming story and I really enjoyed the photos of the kitties. Hugs and Purrs. Mom and Spike.x
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Whiskers, Matriarch of Mischief
3/1/2019 03:23:51 pm
Thank you so much Aunty Christine and Spike Very kind of you to say so.
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