Let me start this story by saying, I'm not a cat person. Well, I wasn't.
When we moved to the farm, I was almost immediately greeted by a squatter. She was small, furry and calico. And terrified of humans. Anytime we came into the barn, she went out. There was a minimum of 50 feet between us at all times, until there wasn't.
One evening, while on my hands and knees bandaging a leg wound on Shaqerdoodle Fritz, this pint-sized cat head butted me. She rubbed against me, purred and begged for attention. Immediately she leaned into the scritches and scratches and my new best friend was made. Everyone, meet Callie Coo Titten.
Fast forward a few months, and my furry friend was ready to pop with kittens. One Sunday afternoon, while walking through the barn with my parents and Andrew, my trusty pup Milo alerted at the half wall in a horse stall. Low and behold, when we looked over the wall and saw our sweet Callie-Coo!
This is where the story takes a sad turn. In addition to Callie, one of the male cats, Philip, was crouched next to two lifeless kittens. While Callie labored, we began strategizing a plan to free her from the wall. Callie brough a third kitten into the world, but Philip was proving to be unsafe. We decided to remove him first, fastening a hook and loop from baling twine to lift him from behind the half wall.
In theory, this would have been a quick fix, except for the part where he freaked out, backed through the loop, and pulled the slip knot tight as a noose around his neck. Cue full panic attack (who can blame him) and a vicious clawing of Andrew's face. Philip ran off to the horizon, neck tie blowing in the breeze.
Back to the kittens. The third kitten was obviously struggling, and Callie was laboring again. The heigh of the wall prevented us from reaching her. We attempted scooping her into a hay bay and sweeping her up a "bridge" made from 2 x 4, but she was distracted by the whole being in labor thing and had no interest in participating.
This led to more drastic action - crow bars, drills, and three grown adults pulling a 2 x 12 plank from the wall. This created just enough space for Andrew to use a step ladder and his 6'4" pterodactyl wingspan to scoop Callie and her fourth kitten out from behind the wall. He placed them into a tote with blankets and Callie immediately began her reign as Mama Cat of the Year.
While her first three kittens did not survive the wrath of Philip, the fourth appeared healthy and well. With the help of a good friend, we rushed Mama Cat and her bundle of joy to the Urgent Care Vet. Unfortunately for my co-pilot, Callie Coo is prone to car sickness. By the time we got to the parking lot, the tote no longer contained just a cat and a kitten, but a whole lot of regurgitated after birth and diarrhea.
Back to good news, Callie's xray showed that there were no more kittens and Baby Titten was already nursing! We took them home and set them up in a kitty condo with blankets, beds, food and water. This not only kept them warm and full, but kept them safe. Or so I thought...
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