“Teazer, please, give it up,” Mungojerrie said, watching her stalk the mouse, “You’ve been trying for a month now – it’s hopeless.”
“Hey,” she said turning to face him, “No knot unties itself.” She returned to watching the small rodent, “It takes time and patience. You have to keep trying and you can’t give up.” She made a grab at it but missed. “Do you know what Old Deuteronomy does? He was bought by those at the Vicarage for hunting mice; and in his old age he’s not expected to still do so. He does, though; his legs may be tottery, he must go slow; but he can still catch mice. And if he can do it, so can I.”
“If you say so,” he sighed, curling up in the basket for an afternoon snooze, having been out late with Olav the night before. He heard Rumpelteazer mumbling to herself, talking about her strategies for getting her prize. He closed his eyes, and tried to find a comfortable position in the bed but failed to do so.
“Ha-ha! Mungo, I got him!” He looked up over the edge of the basket and saw Rumpelteazer spread out on the cement floor, the mouse’s tail pinned underneath her paw. She gave a jubilant cry, throwing her arms in to the air, giving the mouse a chance to get away. Her face fell as it hid under the washer. Mungo laughed; enjoying the confused expression on her face. “Oh... Everlasting cat,” she moaned curling in a ball, “Cramp.”
“What; a cramp?”
“Yes, a cramp,” Rumpelteazer said, “a painful, involuntary muscle spasm. Also knows as a...” she trailed off, realization appearing on her face.
“A contraction,” Mungo asked as she nodded. “Does that mean the kittens are coming?”
“It does.”
“Teazer, the kittens are coming, we’re going to be parents soon,” he cried happily, running over and hugging her. “This is great.”
“Oh it is,” she said, nuzzling him, “This is wonderful, we – Ow. This is painful”
Mungojerrie began to lead her towards their basket, easing her down, “You stay here; I’m going to run upstairs. I promise I’ll be right back.” He placed a paw gently on her stomach before he ran up the staircase. The house was large and he needed to get one of the humans – they’d know what to do. Luckily some of the rooms were only used for entertaining guest so he mentally crossed them off his list. He walked into the office and checked around for the male human. Mungo looked up and saw the calendar on the desk, it was Sunday. He cursed; the family was going skiing that day. Since the family wasn’t going to be here, the help wasn’t needed and they were gone too. They wouldn’t be back until that night and he needed them now. Feeling hopeless he ran to the library and grabbed a book that the daughter used to read when doing a health project for school. Apparently it had information on pregnancies. He pushed it open and flipped the pages until he found one about birth. He quickly tore it out and bounded downstairs. “How are you making out?”
“Alright, I suppose,” Rumpelteazer swallowed, looking slightly pained. “What’s with the paper?”
“I couldn’t find any humans to help,” he explained, “This might be useful.” He quickly scanned it “Ah, ‘contractions - a tightening of the muscles of the womb that occurs at increasingly frequent intervals immediately before childbirth and eventually pushes the baby out of the womb.’ So, basically, the more contractions you have the sooner the kittens will be born?”
“Sounds like it, and I‘ve had two more since you left,” she explained, rubbing her stomach.
Mungojerrie let out a low whistle, “Maybe I should go see if Jennyanydots is visiting Bustopher Jones. She’ll know what to do.”
“No,” Rumpelteazer cried, grabbing his tail as he turned to leave, “Don’t go. There’s no way we can be sure if she’s there or not. Please stay.”
“I don’t know anything about birthing kittens, though,” he confessed, crouching down by her.
She nodded and cringed, having another contraction, “I don’t know anything about it either, Jerrie. I just know that I don’t want to be alone right now.”
He nudged her with his nose and rested his head under hers, “Alright, I’ll stay.”
/\\//\\//\\/
“They’re gorgeous,” Mungo beamed, rubbing his head against Rumpelteazer’s. Two small calicos were up curled in her arms, nursing, as she purred deeply. One was dark of color, a black patch over each eye while the rest of him was splattered with more black and reddish-orange. The other was lighter like her mother, two different colored ears and white paws accompanied her splotched fur. “You feel okay?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, “A little tired, a little excited... quite relieved.” She gave her son a small lick on his head as he stopped eating and took to sleeping; “Now we have to think up names for them.”
“You’d think that we would have done that by now,” Mungo said, resting beside her, “Or have narrowed down the field some. Can I hold him?”
“’Course you can,” she said, leaning forward to pass the child safely to him, “Just be sure to support his head.” He cradled his son in his arms, trying to model it after Rumpelteazer who was still holding the queen.
“Like this,” he asked as she nodded, “Now, as for the names.”
“It’s going to be hard,” she commented, “It is a difficult matter...”
“It isn’t just one of your holiday games,” Mungojerrie smiled as she laughed weakly.
“I already think that you’re as mad as a hatter,” she responded, “But we need to give them the second of their three names.”
Mungo sat in silence, contemplating the task that was in front of him. He never gave it much thought, although he knew that it was to be special, it had to fit the child’s character; but how do you come up with a name for one so small, so weak and helpless. It’s just been given to you on a sliver platter and you were to dub it with out even knowing the psyche of its being. “Can you imagine the names the humans will give them? Spotty, Holly, Mark, Jake, Minnie... Fluffy?”
“They put no effort in them whatsoever,” Rumpelteazer said angrily, “It’s like naming a toy to them. It’s a precious thing, just like they are.” She gave the small calico in her arms a nuzzle, “Wynne.”
“What did you just say?”
“Wynne,” she said looking up at him, “I think it suits her.”
“It does,” he said, taking another look at his daughter, “Tynan and Wynne”
“Gorgeous,” she said, placing Wynne on the basket’s lining as Mungo laid Tynan next to her. They curled together, sharing their body heat as they slept. Rumpelteazer curled around them, snuggling in to go to sleep. Mungojerrie laid across from her, protection their newborns from the basket’s opening. He gave Rumpelteazer a small lick as she closed her eyes.
“Goodnight ‘Mom’.”
She gave him a soft smile, “Goodnight ‘Dad’.”