And Sanna makes a century

 This is Sanna, our 100th foster cat:

Well, Sanna came to us with her six 5-day-old babies in toe:

Of course, our first thought was - here we go, folks, it's Poppy's Babies time again! But, no, Sanna's story is very different from Poppy's. Mostly because with Poppy I had about a month to get to know her, and by the time her babies came around we had formed quite a special bond. Sanna, on the other hand, was handed to the vets in town four days after she'd given birth to her litter, so she was understandably not the happiest of all bunnies when she found herself surrounded by new absolutely everything.

And on top of all that, she was suffering from one of the worst cases of gastrointestinal worms I'd ever seen! I mean, after 99 cats, we'd seen all sorts - live worms in a foamy vomit pouring out of the cutest mouths, worms hanging out of anuses, worm eggs in poop, etc. But Sanna's case really took things to another level. I don't panic or overreact easily, but when I saw her vomiting out about 40 live roundworms, I felt horrified, sad, sorry, frustrated, helpless. This is why it is absolutely imperative that we treat our cats for parasites, especially rescue cats. The sad thing about Sanna was that she wasn't a fully feral cat, she'd been living on a farm somewhere. And obviously without getting any parasite treatment ever. So, no parasite control and no birth control. If we're brutally honest here, this amounts to neglect. And that amounts to abuse. And it of course means that she will pass the parasites on to her babies, via her breast milk. And for the babies that can mean diarrhea and that can be life-threatening, if not treated. So, please do not skip parasite treatments for your cats.

I'm now going to post a picture of the biggest worm I've ever seen come out of a cat. It's just the front of it, it went all the way to the back of the container. And it was still alive! So, here comes, look away now or scroll down if you're squeamish, but I think it's important to understand how bad it can get if we don't take responsibility for our cats' intestinal health.

This is preventable - worm your cats regularly!

In the beginning, Sanna was very suspicious of me, always growling at first as a cautionary greeting. And she made sounds at me that I'd never heard before. She was often hunched and seemed constantly ready to pounce. And she did attack me four times during our first week together. In fairness, it's hard to blame her - she had been thrown into a completely new environment with her neonates who, of course, had to be her number one priority and protected at all costs. So, initially it was rather awkward to navigate her moods and behaviour - for instance, she would be perfectly fine when I placed wet food in her bowl in front of her (and sometimes she'd even headbutt my hand as I was doing it), and yet if I right there stretched my hand out to pick up her water bowl for a refill, she'd stick her claw in my hand. And not in a playful manner, no, she meant to cause harm. And mission accomplished! So I started moving around very slowly in the kitten room, never looking straight at her, making myself very small at every opportunity, and always talking in a soft, high-pitched voice.

Changing the babies' bedding and inspecting and cleaning their eyes every morning had been a doddle with Poppy, because she trusted me completely around her kittens. But it was a little bit different with Sanna - I had to lure her away from the nest, so I placed her food and drink bowls at the other end of the room. And when she was ravenously eating at one end of the kitten room, I could busy myself with her babies at the other. She actually seemed okay with me handling her precious babies by their nest while she was nutrifying herself elsewhere. She did sometimes look back towards me inspecting and cleaning her babies, but she seemed to be almost pleased to have some help with them.

Finally we established a behaviour pattern that allowed me to perform all the necessary tasks as needed. When I stepped into her room, Sanna would usually do her hunched "don't you come anywhere near me or my babies" dance at me, so I just had to spend the first few minutes nodding my head towards the babies' nest and asking her to go back to her babies and stay there for a while. And she did! To be perfectly honest, I think the hoover helped me a little with that institution of obedience. You see, on Fridays I usually hoovered their room. To do that, I locked the mama and her babies in their nest and covered it with a towel to reduce any potentially alarming visual stimuli. Then I proceeded with the cleaning and changing of the food bowls, cushions, rugs, blankets, etc. When it was all done, I opened the nest door, lifted the towel and let them out to play or eat or whatever they fancied. And then I noticed that Sanna had become somewhat afraid of me, or she started treating me as the dominant creature in the mix. However, her humble deference only lasted till about next Thursday, by which time she had regained her initial prowess and spunk, and started trotting around the room again in a considerably less-than-friendly manner every time I entered. Nonetheless, by the time the babies had turned 5 weeks old, Sanna was remarkably more relaxed in my company, she started sitting on the rug with me, going about her business, and she even started using the litter box in front of me!

Sanna "potty-training" her 5-week-old babies

She was a very good mother. And there's something very reassuring in watching nature do its thing - I am in awe at how a mama cat raises her kittens. Everything is so organic, natural, and seems to go so smoothly. And she has a sound for every command she needs to communicate to her babies: the gentle gurgling roll of "it's dinner time", the dark deep growl of "stranger danger", the delicate high-pitched gargle of "are you okay?" and so on. And the babies understand all of it very early on. I read somewhere that cats have around 100 different vocalizations in their arsenal, compared to the dogs' 10. I think with Sanna I heard about at least 50 of them😉

Once the babies turned 7 weeks old, Sanna went to get neutered and move to a different farm, hopefully to live happily ever after. I guess if I had to pick the most important thing I learnt from this experience, it's that you can care for someone without forming a close bond; you shouldn't expect cuddles from every cat you foster; friendship is not an unavoidable prerequisite for a mutually respectful relationship. Sanna and I didn't become firm friends, or any kind of friends, but we understood and accepted our roles in our short partnership.

But now it's time for some very cute kitten pictures, methinks. So, here they are, Sanna's babies:

Yes, they're all here, including Sanna (or her paws, to be exact;)

Timmy, the beautiful boy of the group. I named him after the beautiful boy from Canada - Timothee Chalamet:)

Frankie, the fearless extrovert-entertainer of the litter. Named after Frank Zappa, obviously;)

Frankie and Timmy were adopted together! Could not have gone any better for those two inseparable BFFs:)

Petal. Pretty much defines cuteness, don't you think?

Suzi. Sweet as sweet can be. And very lucky to be adopted with her sister Petal!

Ozzy. He was the first of this family to befriend me on his own accord. One day he just decided that I am awesome and my lap is the best place on earth:) What can I say, the boy has taste;)

Basil, or Baz. He's the fun-loving fella in the family. And a total heart-throb:)

As luck would have it, Sanna's babies were all adopted in pairs. Couldn't be happier for them! What a beautiful way to celebrate our century:)