Chronicles of a Feline Foster Mom

This afternoon, I received a phone call from a lady who found three orphaned kittens on a construction site, half-roasting to death under a piece of sheet metal. Since I volunteered to be a foster parent with my local animal shelter, I get at least one of these phone calls a week, and sadly, I can't help them all.

My first experience with fostering kittens started this past April when three tiny balls of fluff were delivered to my door in a plain cardboard box. Their eyes were open and their ears were up. They were a bit unsteady on their feet, and they squirmed together for warmth in a kaleidoscope of black and tan fur. Not one of them weighed more than 9 ounces and all of them were desperately hungry.

I'd be lying if I said I had even the first notion of what to do with them, but my vet talked me through it. With an eye-dropper and some KMR formula purchased from the local pet store, I set about what would become a ritual every four-to-eight hours. I'd take each kitten, swathe it in a towel, and feed it from the eye dropper. To my delight, two of the three kittens caught on quickly and suckled from the eye-dropper as if it were a nipple. The other one ended up with most of the milk all over his little face, but he somehow got enough to eat anyway.

One of the startling things that I learned about baby kittens, is how helpless they are. They don't know how to lick themselves clean, and they don't know how to "go to the bathroom" on their own. After each feeding, I'd have to take a wetnap, and gently massage their bellies and private parts until they were ready to eliminate, and then put them into the litter box. Luckily, the kittens learned within two days. They were each litter-trained in less than a week and since they were too small to climb out of the nest that I'd made them in the bathtub, there was a minimum of mess.

What was messy, was teaching the kittens how to eat solid foods. They greeted the prospect of not being able to suckle as if it were a tragic mystery, and they nearly drowned themselves in their milk bowls. I found that the enticing smell of pure chicken baby food was the lure they needed to get them to lower their heads. And once they started lapping it up, they made as much of a mess of themselves with the Gerber as a real baby would. They stepped in it. They got it all over their faces and whiskers, and they practically fingerpainted with it. They had to be bathed in the aftermath.

The thing about kittens though, is that they grow up quickly. Within two weeks of being dropped off at my doorstep, they were self-sufficient. All they needed was food, water, a clean litterbox, cuddle and play time. Every day is a new discovery for orphaned kittens--whether it's learning to pounce for the first time or figuring out how to play nicely with one another.

All in all, it was only two weeks of intense investment in the kittens' well-being, and the result? Loving, well-adjusted pets who are happy, healthy, and ready for a new home. When I look at their little faces, it's hard to think about what would have happened to them if I hadn't taken them in.

As the lady on the phone today told me, the Humane Society would euthanize the orphaned kittens she found if she brought them to their doors. Without a pregnant mother-cat to nurse them, or a family to foster them, they would starve to death. That's why I encourage people to take the plunge, and foster some orphaned kittens for a few weeks. It's not that difficult, and you will be saving little lives.