You are going to think I'm absolutely insane, and I may just be (or on the fast track to Cuckooville). One of my neighbors drove partway down my road night before last to turn around. When he got home, he called and left a voicemail for me that said he'd seen young kittens about halfway down my road, sitting in the middle of the road. Now why this man didn't save these tiny babies is beyond me, but he just left them there.
I didn't check my voicemail until late yesterday morning, and by then I was sure the kittens would be either long gone or dead (it was pretty cold night before last), but I called my neighbor anyway and found out he saw two tiny orange kittens but no mother cat. So even though I knew they wouldn't still be there ... at least not alive ... I drove down to check. When I got to the spot where the kittens were sighted, I stopped the car, got out, and started to meow toward the woods bordering the road. I listened carefully and heard nothing. I walked a few steps and continued to meow. I thought I heard something, but it sounded distant and really could have been anything.
I continued to walk and meow until I was pretty sure I heard a cat meow back, but it didn't sound like a kitten. I looked in the direction I thought I heard the meow, and there about 100' away were two tiny objects slowly shuffling up the hill toward me. They were too small and too distant for me to see clearly, but they appeared to be orange. I walked toward them until I eventually met up with two itsy bitsy, orange kittens who can't be more than 6 weeks old, if that. They are extremely thin and bony, and their eyes are infected.
Of course I scooped them up and brought them home, thoroughly amazed that they made it through the night. I saw no sign of their mother or any other siblings. If there was a mother present, I'm sure they wouldn't have left her to come to my meows. Even if Mom was out hunting at the time, she clearly isn't producing enough milk to support her babies. I'm guessing, though, that Mom is either dead or has abandoned the kits. Either way, the babies are now under my care.
When I got them home, I started cleaning their eyes. The smaller and more emaciated of the kits had one eye so goobery that it was sealed shut, so of course I started calling him Goober. And then of course the only name I could possibly call the other one was Gomer. After I washed their eyes with a warm, wet towel and got Goober's stuck eye open, I medicated them with eye antibiotic. Then I started feeding them each 1 tsp of food every hour, which thankfully they were able to eat on their own. They're also able to drink water and use the litterbox successfully, though I'm not sure either one of them has pooped yet.
They're fearless little twerps, waddling around the livingroom under my close supervision, walking right up to the other animals, allowing themselves to be sniffed and licked by the dogs, backing away from the less than welcoming cats. I even had them swatting at a toy for a couple of minutes, and they spent a couple more minutes wrestling with each other. Now they are snoozing away, warm, well fed, and safe in a large carrier on the livingroom floor where Tasha can keep a close eye on them. Did I mention that Tasha has claimed them as her own? And she doesn't even like cats!
And so, without further adieu, allow me to introduce Goober (left) and Gomer (right):
