I learned as a teen Marine that young girls off the street are tougher than you might think no matter how large or physically fit you are. The tomcat Trouble is finding that out in this series of photos. He screwed up by jumping his formerly feral mother for a playfight when she wasn't in the mood. She responded by knocking him down and then planted her four legs all pissed off to tear him up. Little Shiloh is up on my recliner in the top of the photo and is not interested.



The momcat Mister Mittens goes behind her larger son and gets low to leap up and grab his throat with her fangs while he gets up off the floor.



After his mother kicks his ass the huge tomcat Trouble leaped up upon the stair railing to avoid greater damage to his ego and body from a girl. He's staring down at his mother and praying that she doesn't take a leap to kick his ass some more.



If I had this sequence on video it would go 'viral' on YouTube I think.

You just can't beat a street fighter with experience no matter how big or young you are.

And no, no animals were injured or killed while this photoplay was made. No blood was shed.

Good sequence of photos. That is a nice camera you have...the pics are so clear.

Maybe "Santa" will bring you a high resolution video camera for "those special moments"

You can see Trouble is a young "toughie" with alot of energy and a sweet disposition...he never lived on the street like Mom ,but he got good genes from her and the "real" Mr Mittens.

Trouble escapes to the stair railing...athleticism and power are his "weapons"...and he ponders the "why"of Mom's extreme reaction... "...when he wants to Play!

Wooley, the cats are loved here. My son isn't thrilled with Mister Mittens even though he's the reason they are all here but the two kids are very gentle as house cats.

Most afternoons Mister Mittens will jump on my lap in the recliner and accept ear rubs and pettings. When I pet her in places that she doesn't like (along her lower side or back legs - Jeez, I don't touch girls nasty) she will perk up and lay a bite into my arm that does not break skin. And sometimes she will just lay out a front paw with claws extended while staring at me with those emerald-green eyes. When I stop petting her or go back to petting her along the shoulders, chin, and ears she just lays her head down and goes back to sleep.

That is not unusual. Cat's can be finicky as to where they are petted. Not personal.
You don't know if Mr Mittens had some old injury that is still sensitive or she is just touchy.

Her life changed drastically..for the better for sure...it's just she lost her "freedom" and hasn't gotten 100% used it.
I bet in a few years as the the "memories" of past her life fade, Mr Mittens will become "friendlier, but she'll never be Miss Congeniality. You know that she had to be tough to be a "street survivor". But her kittens turned out to be great pets.

As a new mother Mister Mittens used to get kicked out of my house several times a day before I learned about litter boxes. She would go over a fence to go see her her feral cat buddies (her mother is still around as of early April) but she never ran off for long - she would cry and scratch to get into the door to nurse her kittens.

After a day or so when I got the cats out of the super-heated garage (it was 100 degrees last July and about 115 in the garage) the momcat wasn't so "street" anymore.

But I'm backtracking.

1/8 Poles's kindness to the Momcat had her at my front stoop when she was in labor, in a jam, and due. My wife took her in and immediately understood that the cat was going to give birth. Moms and Granmas like my wife know these things - old simple male dorks like me are clueless.

The Momcat gets a blanket and put outside next to my front stoop while she gives birth. In the morning my wife goes to work and my son goes to jail.



As an old Marine I understand that the Momcat's position is not good for defense - the front yard no longer has a fence and the street is wide open while she is nursing and exposed to anything that might walk by. I try to take her kittens from her to take them to a safer place but Mister Mittens goes hissy and clawy and lays out teeth. No good unless you want to be wounded. It's a hundred degrees out.

A couple of hours later I figure the Momcat might be hungry so I bring out a can of Bumblebee Tuna and give her a sniff. She has been into the house before with my son and I get her around to side door and into the house. She is hungry. I have a plan and shut the door. I race out the front door with a dust pan and collect the four kittens. I take them out to the garage and lay them on a nice blanket.

The new Mom comes out and races to where she gave birth and cannot find her kittens. She doesn't panic and she doesn't make a sound. She walks around the front yard until she gets by the driveway. The house doesn't lean out into the driveway she catches a scent. She races up the driveway and into the garage like a blur and ties up with her kittens on the blanket.

Later in the day all of the cats are gone I thought - the blanket is bare and Mister Mittens has run off with her kittens one by one by the scruff to a better place. OK by me, I tried my best to help her out but no. The Momcat is cramped into a back corner of the garage with lots of stuff around her while she nurses in cramped quarters. She knew how to lay up with her kittens away from people and predators. Moms always know.

Two young kittens got adopted and two stayed - we even kept the feral street slut girl.