Little Rooney

As I sat on my front porch swing one April afternoon, I heard a kitten cry.

It was coming from a newborn that had been abandoned.  Poor little fellow - he was caught by his attached cord in some shrubbery, of all things.  He was strong and healthy and couldn’t be but a few hours old. 

Warmth is the most important need of a newborn, so I wrapped him up and placed him in a container on a heating pad.  Throughout the day, I tried everything I could think of to get him to his mother, who was a wild cat, and first time mother.  Nothing worked.

I prayed and prayed.  Then it came to me.  A couple of weeks or so before, our cat Pocahontas had given birth.  Although I didn’t know where she was hiding with her kittens, I prayed that she would make an appearance.

And there she was!

I brought her inside and with a little work, convinced her to nurse the infant kitten.   I couldn’t  keep Pocahontas long though, since she had to get back to her own babies.

By this time, my daughter’s heart was involved, and she named him “Rooney” after Mickey Rooney.  My worry thickened.  Could this even possibly end well?

It would be a long night as I got up every three hours to feed the crying desperate little guy. 

At daybreak, I trudged through our tornado tattered woods, hoping to come up on little Rooney’s mom or siblings, or even Pocahontas. 

There was no use. More prayer was in order.

Later that morning, both moms showed up.  However, the wild cat acted as if she had no idea that this baby was hers. 

She sniffed, hissed and then ignored Rooney.

But sweet Pocahontas dutifully let me coax her once again into feeding him.  With high hopes I left the door open so she could come and go.   She tarried the remainder of the morning responding to his cries.  By noon, she was gone – and so was Baby Rooney!   I just knew she must have taken him to where her other wee ones were hid.  I assured my worried daughters and myself,  that we would likely see him again when he got old enough to follow his new adopted mama out of hiding. 

This story has a happy ending!

Look who appeared!  Isn’t he so precious?!

 
He is a bit shy, but not as wild as her other two slightly older toddling kittens.  Could it be that he remembers us?

And here is our hero, Pocahontas, still nursing and caring for him.  What a sweetheart! 

Praising God today for this happy ending and reminder of the Lord’s interest and care in all the details of our lives!