After reading another feral kitten success story, I decided to tell the story of a very special kitty that I had when I was about six or seven years old.
When my mom and I visited my grandmother one day while my grandfather was at work, I had no idea what surprise was in store for me. At the time I didn't have any cats. The only pet I had was a beautiful silver German Shepherd which I had named after my aunt - honestly, it was my way of complimenting my favorite aunt, but I don't think she saw it that way and I am not sure how long it took her to forgive my mom for letting me name the dog after her.
While we visited that day, I was busy wandering around the front yard looking for my favorite 'wild' kitty that I had named Orangie. Back then, we just called them wild cats instead of feral cats. Orangie was a sweet little orange tabby that my grandmother fed. She would rarely let anybody get too close to her, but I was able to pet her. As I was looking for the kitty, my grandmother and my mom went over to the empty house my grandparents owned next door. A few minutes later, they called me over.
I hadn't seen the inside of this house since my mom and I had lived in it several years ago when I was a baby, so I barely remembered it. The house was now mostly empty with a few pieces of furniture in it. My grandmother led me and my mom over to the couch in the front room, and she and my mom gently tipped the couch over to reveal several tiny, hissing, spitting, kittens. I nearly went nuts!! They were all so cute!!
That was when I found out why Orangie wasn't outside. She jumped into through a window and sat next to the couch with a proud mommy look on her face as if to say, "Aren't they beautiful?" My mom and grandmother gently lowered the couch and Orangie called her babies out to her.
A few days later my mom and I came back to my grandparent's house. By now the kittens had grown a up quite a bit from the last time I had seen them, and they were acting even more fierce as my mom and grandmother lifted the couch up. But I had put on a pair of gloves, and was ready for the sharp little teeth and claws. I studied the kittens for a few seconds until my eyes locked onto a beautiful little calico. Without hesitation, I reached out and grabbed the little kitten who immediately sank her claws into the gloves and began biting at my fingers. I quickly hugged her to my chest and held her gently while my mom and grandmother carefully put the couch back in place.
We took the fierce little calico home, and she immediately raced under the living room couch. I went in to the kitchen and filled a dish with dry cat food and added canned milk to it. At the time, we knew nothing about kitten milk replacment or anything like that. We just gave babies canned milk mixed with water. I put the dish under the couch, and still lying on my stomach, I backed up to watch as the kitten approached the dish.
"What are you going to name her?" My mom asked.
Turning to look up at my mom I answered, "Lulu Belle."
I can't remember how long it took the curious little kitty to come out from the couch, but once she did, we were almost inseparable. Lulu slept with me at night - usually on top of my chest or curled up close to my face. We watched TV together, and when I was very sick and my mom brought me into the living room where she could watch me night and day, Lulu stayed right by me sleeping next to me or on top of me. This little wild kitten had become my best friend.
Then one night, as my mom and I were getting ready to go Christmas shopping, we saw Lulu laying in the driveway. She had been hit by a car, but somehow managed to crawl back into the yard. We rushed her to the emergency clinic, but she didn't make it. My best friend was gone.
We buried Lulu Belle in my grandparent's yard close to the fence next to the house where she was born. This was about 34/35 years ago, and I still remember the exact spot where she is buried close to my lemon tree. Even now, as I write this tears are falling from my eyes. We only had her for a very short time (about a year or so), but this sweet little kitty left some huge paw prints in my heart that are still there to this day.
Feral kitties truly can become a human's best friend.
