by Nan Demers

Created on: April 17, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

Memorial Day weekend was warm and sunny, and a great time to do some yard work. I was working on the flower beds when I heard a very faint meow. I stopped and listened, and there it was again, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. As I walked toward the front porch, the meowing became a little louder and more plaintive. The pathetic noise was coming from the bushes next to my front steps. I looked down and there was a tiny gray tabby cat. I estimated he was only four or five weeks old. I knelt down to try to pick him up and he backed up until he was up against the porch.

I called to my daughter to bring a cat carrier, some blankets, and food. I was going to help him. I put food down and he ravenously gulped it down; then we sat watching each other. He curled up as close to the steps as he could get, and I put my hand out, talking very softly to him. He allowed me to pat him and finally I picked him up and wrapped him in a blanket. I sat on the porch holding him, and he slept peacefully, so I put him in the crate. When he woke up, the serenade started again.

There was no sign of his mother or any other kittens, but I had a feeling there were more besides him. I had one cat, but decided to keep the kitten. He was little but feisty, and I named him Simba. When he realized he wasn't going to be hurt, he liked being picked up, but was very opinionated for someone so small. He kept gazing over toward a shed on the property and meowing even louder. Two days later I found his mother and littermates. They were all very fearful and so hungry, so I stocked up on cat food and set out to get them tame enough so I could help them. I combed the lost and found sections of the paper, but if there was an owner, he or she wasn't coming forward. I hadn't anticipated caring for so many cats but that's what I did. There is only one shelter here for cats, and there are so many that it's always full.

Simba was the smallest of the litter and the only male. However once he was getting fed and cared for he grew quickly. He started to become more independent, and liked being petted, but it seemed he was never going to be a lap cat. I had never cared for a litter of homeless cats before, and knew it would be a challenge since the kittens apparently had been born outdoors, and Simba was the only one who had any human contact. I kept him in a large crate with a warm bed and toys to play with, and when he spotted his mother and sisters, he would meow to them as if to say "it's ok, you won't be hurt." They finally started coming to eat the food I'd left out for all of them, and very gradually became more tame. I put crates around my carport with warm beds and blankets, and eventually the rest of the cats started sleeping in the crates at night. Simba grew from a tiny, scared kitten who was hungry, cold, and scared to a beautiful adult cat who now weighs over 10 pounds. The cats are still very timid with anyone else, but know that as long as they have a home with me they'll be loved and taken care of. This is an experience I never thought I'd have, but I feel blessed to have Simba and his family in my life.

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