I used to live in a place with an overabundance of stray cats and other types of wildlife as well.I love animals, and I took it upon myself to feed them all. These cats were characterized as "feral," but I can tell you from experience that if you build trust with them, that trust is rewarded, and they become anything but "feral".My husband was not fond of my devotion to the cats. It added $50 or more to our grocery bill every week, and when I came home from work, there would be a crew of about 15-20 cats milling around outside our house. Almost like I was running a flop house for cats.
During the summer, we were sitting out on our back deck, and this beautiful, petite, little white cat came up on the porch. She was a regular who hung around. I used to have very basic names I would call them. She was whitey. A big gray male used to come around and I called him gray's anatomy. You get the picture.
I looked at this beautiful little cat , and I said to my husband, "That cat is getting fat. Either that or she is pregnant," He told me cats only have kittens at certain times of the year-I now know this to be untrue.I also now know that cats can have a litter of kittens by more than one father. My husband used to think I was running a flop house for them. Looks more like I was running a whore house with all these litters of kittens.
A few days later, we were back on the porch and she came sauntering up the deck steps and she did something she had never done before. She jumped up on my lap. She laid down and I looked at her stomach and it was moving. I looked at my husband, pointed to her belly and said "Still think she's not pregnant ?" Immediatly he said "That cat is NOT having kittens in our house"
He knew me do well. I was excited and not in the mood to argue, so I went into the house, emptied out a large bin, grabbed some towels and a sheet, and set up a little shelter on the deck.I set her inside, draped the sheet over the bin, and went to bed. When I woke up in the morning, I ran to the porch and pulled the sheet back. Immediately I saw 4 of the most adorable kittens you would ever see. 3 orange and a solid gray one. I looked at the solid gray one, and I said outloud "That gray cat is MINE". I brought mother and babies inside the house and as soon as they were old enough the kittens were adopted and the momma got spayed and went back to hanging out behind my house. My little gray cutie needed a name. I thought about it, and I settled on Gracie. My name is Annette, and Annette means Grace.
I've never liked my name, but I always told people God picked it for me because he knew I would need Grace, and he knew I would need to learn how to extend Grace to other people. I can be a real hard ass sometimes. Now every time I look at Gracie, it's a reminder to me that we all a little Grace in our lives.Shes a sweet furry reminder.
Omg this mug... I can't stand it.
