two is better than four

For someone who's allergic to cats, and honestly is not terribly fond of them, I'm sure spending a lot of time with them lately.

For a couple of days we fostered the four kitties. Then, one morning as we were feeding them, we heard the mother cat prowling in the attic, and sounding unhappy.
We rushed the kittens upstairs to the deck, where they continued to cry, and to our relief, the mother actually came and took the one we had named Sherlock.

She carried it across the hot tin roof behind Michael and Amy (below) to 'her' house, where she headed into THEIR attic. (Whew. I was a little worried she would put them right back into our attic again.)

We left the other three kittens on the deck, hoping that she would come back.
Sure enough, after an hour or so, she did! This time she took Poirot.

Michael waited sadly. He was pretty sure that Chesterton (below) would be the next to go, and Chesterton was his favorite.

But several more days have passed, and Momma Cat hasn't returned for the other two.
Looks like she's given Miss Marple and Chesterton up for adoption.

Though I'm not thrilled with being a parent to two helpless kittens, it has been an amazing process to nurse them and to see our kids join the effort to keep them alive.

As we sit feeding them and endlessly wiping their little crusty eyes (they seem to have colds, complete with tiny sneezes and goopy eyes) we can't help but be amazed at how these tiny bundles of flesh and bone (and claws!) are so fearfully and wonderfully made; little hearts beating, little lungs breathing, all body systems in perfect order. And it causes us to stand in even greater awe of our Creator.

"In His hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind."

Job 12:10