This spring, we took on four of the smallest — and quietest — houseguests I’ve ever had. They weren’t invited, but they were certainly welcome.
It all started when a stray cat gave birth beneath our house in the Sonoran Desert. I never saw much of her — just quick glimpses as she darted from shadow to sun. Then one day, she simply stopped coming. Coyotes roam these parts, and I fear she became one of their many unseen victims. Left behind were four tiny kittens, barely five weeks old, suddenly orphaned and alone.
We couldn’t just ignore them.
So, I began feeding them, gently and consistently, three times a day. I’d spread out a big beach towel on the ground and sit there, 3 or 4 times a day, just to be down on their level. At first, I used a soft, high-pitched voice to help them get used to me. I still use that same voice when I call them to eat. All I have to do now is say one word: “Babies.” As soon as they hear it, they come running.
They earned their names from the way they’d emerge — always in the same order — from beneath the house to eat. Numbers 1, 2, 3 and 4. Simple, but it stuck. Those four numbers have become a cherished part of my daily rhythm.
Now nearly four months old, they’re healthy, playful, and still living under the house. During the long, hot desert days, they stay tucked
beneath it where it’s cool and dark, wrestling and playing with each other in their own little shaded world. When the sun finally dips and the desert heat loosens its grip, they emerge like clockwork — usually around 6:45 p.m. — trotting up to the front porch for dinner, where I’ve started feeding them in the evenings.
They’ve become a steady, silent part of my life. And when I say silent, I mean it. None of them meows. Whether it’s instinct or just their nature, their quiet presence is part of what makes them so special.
They’ll all be spayed or neutered, a promise I made to their mama, wherever she may be.
We don’t always choose the things that show up at our door — or in this case, under our floor — but sometimes, the smallest lives bring the biggest blessings.
Teresa Schmied is advertising director of The Active Age. She can be reached at teresa@theactiveage.com.
