We don't always get to choose what we love

I had just finished putting up my first hay cutting of the season just before the last rain when a frail wild cat showed up at my front door with one tiny kitten. What a wild one she was and so protective of her little one. She hissed and even growled at me as though I was the one trespassing.

No creature of God is going to starve on my watch not even an ungrateful wild cat. I gave her some dry dog food and a cup of water. She would not eat until I left but from behind the door I could hear the crunching of a hungry lost creature.

That evening I peaked out the door to see if she had gone. To my surprise she was still there and now with two more kittens! How could this be? She is so thin and so weak.

Hesitantly I fed her again wondering what I may be getting myself into. She hissed and growled again. Her natural instincts I guess from being in the wild for all her life. I think she trusted me as much as she could possibly trust a person. She must have because sometime during the night she brought kitten number four and placed her baby in a crate I had placed by my door.
The kittens are adorable I wish my dogs were as impressed. I had to build a barrier to keep the dogs off the front porch and separate these natural enemies. I even placed one of my dog’s houses on the porch just to give the wild cat family some privacy. My dogs are really starting to hate these cats now.

With a little TLC I was soon able to touch two of the kittens and not long after that, those two (scooter & pebbles) kittens would come running and climb up my pant leg to get to my lap.

I know, what was I thinking naming a wild farm cat? But we don't always get to choose what we love or who.