LITMIR.BIZ

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me where I came from. “That’s okay. Listen, thanks for your help.”

      “That’s the spirit. C’mon, you carry the kittens back to your house and I’ll get the supplies. Then I’ll write down all the stuff you need from the pet store and what else you need to do.”

       10:13 pm: First Feeding/Nature’s Call

      Jeff told me it helps to keep a log of feedings, so here we go.

      I have decided that my storm coverage gear is perfect for what I’m about to do next, so I don my rubber yellow slicker and matching hat. I add a pair of safety goggles as I have no idea how far a kitten can shoot.

      I’ve lined up the cotton balls and warm water.

      Four hours ago I was in a Prada suit ready for a vacation in the Hamptons. Now I look like a member of a Hazmat team about to rub my finger on a kitten’s … hell, I don’t even wanna think about what I’m going to do.

      I take a cotton ball and dip it into the warm water and grab the colorful kitten from the box. I take a deep breath, hold the kitten at arm’s length and turn my head as I have no desire to actually see what I can feel. Ugh. The grimace I see in the mirror is off the charts as I start rubbing the area in question with my finger and within a few seconds I feel something warm which smells really bad.

      “Ugh. Oh my God, this is so disgusting. I am never having kids.”

      I take a peek and see the kitten is done while my finger is covered with (too much information) so I toss the cotton ball in the trash, grab a fresh one and clean the little furball. Back in the box it goes, then I rush to the sink and pour a decent amount of rubbing alcohol on my hands.

      “One down, three to go.”

      Twenty minutes later I’m done.

      Twenty minutes after that, the Silkwood shower I’m taking runs out of hot water.

       12:02 am: Second Feeding/Nature’s Call

      I had just drifted off to sleep when the loud one started crying again.

      Jeff was right. They’re on schedule.

      At least I don’t need another shower for this part.

      Oh, wait. I have to clean them after feeding them. Curses, foiled again.

      I prepare four bottles with the formula and line them up on the kitchen table. As I sit I grab the colorful kitten from the box. He already knows the routine as the moment I put the bottle to his mouth he latches on and drains it. “Awww, you were hungry again, huh?” I put the little guy on my shoulder, burp it, and repeat the process with the other kittens.

      I feel a twinge of maternal instinct as I look at the adorable tiger kitten sucking on the bottle, but the memory from two hours ago blows it out of the water.

      Because I have to do the Hazmat routine again.

      The hot water in the shower runs out after eight minutes, apparently not having had enough time to re-load.

      I have got to get a bigger water heater.

       3:14 am: Third Feeding/Nature’s Call.

      I must look like an extra from The Walking Dead as I shuffle into the kitchen to prepare the bottles. Bleary-eyed I get the kittens fed. The colorful one gives me a soulful look when he’s done with his bottle and for a minute I feel guilty about complaining. The poor little thing has lost its mother and I’ve only lost sleep.

      Hazmat suit. Alcohol. Shower.

       4:20 am: Bad Dream

      Not me, one of the kittens. The colorful one started screaming and shaking. I held him close so he could hear my heartbeat. He calmed down after five minutes. Not sure if kittens have nightmares or if he woke up, couldn’t find his mother and freaked out.

      That feeling is so familiar to me …

       5:44 am: Fourth Feeding/Nature’s Call

      I’m too tired to stand up in the shower so I take a bath. I glance in the box and see them all looking at me.

      “Guys, don’t do that. You’re too damn cute.”

      They keep looking at me.

      “Stop it.”

      They don’t.

      They’re just too cute.

      And something tells me they know it.

       8:01 am: Fifth? Sixth? Who the hell knows. I’ve lost count and can’t focus on the log.

      The sun woke me up this time before the kittens started crying so I’m actually semi-awake while on my third cup of coffee. I can’t help but smile as I look at the kittens huddled together in a ball, fast asleep.

      “Well, guys, we made it. Through the first night, anyway.”

      I can’t believe it, but I actually feel some pride in what I’ve accomplished.

      The fact that I’ve saved four lives gives me a warm feeling.

      Which is good, because the water heater gave up the ghost.

       8:29 am

      I trudge toward the front door to answer the bell. I open it and see my boyfriend’s face immediately drop. “Geez, Madison, you look like hell. You can’t go to the beach party this afternoon looking like that. I thought you were going to get your hair done yesterday? I mean, there are going to be supermodels there.”

      It should be noted that my significant other of the past eight months often has no filter and says things that embarrass me in public. According to my best friends this is a major problem, but one I deem fixable even though he has on occasion made my face match my hair. He also tends to gawk at pretty women when we’re together, even commenting on them, but I’m working on that one as well. Actually, there’s a pretty long to-do list. But as you know, some guys take longer to mature. So let’s go with that. “Thank you, Jeremy. And good morning to you too.” I shake my head as he comes inside.

      My tall, lean boyfriend takes my shoulders, studies my face with his pale blue eyes. “You sick?”

      “Nope. Been up all night.”

      “Well, you can sleep in the car. We’ll find a salon when we get there.” He reaches for the suitcase that I packed days ago and stops. “What’s that noise?”

      I point toward the cardboard box with the kittens. “The reason I was up all night.”

      He walks over to it and takes a look, then runs one hand through his thick, dark hair. “Okay … why do you have a bunch of kittens?”

      “Long story.” I give him the quick recap. “Anyway, they can’t take care of themselves so we’ve gotta take ‘em with us. And stop at a pet store along the way for their groceries.”

      He puts up his hands. “Whoa, hold on a minute. You want to take four orphaned kittens to the Hamptons? And we’ve got to bottle feed them every few hours? Which means getting up in the middle of the night?”

      “No choice. Can’t find anyone else to take them and the vet next door is out of town on his own vacation.”

      He shakes his head. “Madison, I rented a great place and have reservations at some incredible restaurants. The whole week is planned out. We’ve got an invite to the best beach party of the summer in the Hamptons. We can’t take a bunch of cats.”

      I put my hands on my hips. “So, what, we’re gonna just leave ‘em here?”

      He shrugs. “They’re just a bunch of strays that no one would want.”

      Okay, the lack of a filter just crossed the line with the one thing that sets me off. “You do know that

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