Gertude of Rocky Point

Okay, maybe Gerttie doesn't look happy in the first photo, but I'd forgotten the catnip . . . again!

To make matters worse, I switched her from can food to dry food and then forgot to clean the litter box when she thought it needed cleaning.


She did enjoy some autumn hunting, but did not like getting her paws dirty, so limited her escapades to the top of the picnic table.



When she had her first and only litter, she seemed hesitant as she confronted her first born Bertrude. I wasn't sure, but she seemed like she wanted me to clean up the birth sac.

Meanwhile, poor Bert was struggling for air, feebly kicking his feet to get her attention.

Finally, she took care of his problem, and then proceeded to birth four more with no additional glaring in my direction.

I wanted to tell her, "Hey, don't look at me. I'm not the father."

But the father Damien, had by then found a place to hide in the basement to lick his wounds.

Gerttie was a perfect mother. When another of my cats gave birth to three kittens and abandoned them under the lounge chair, Gerttie adopted them, nursed them too. Of course she got canned food during the ordeal, but no catnip.