Baby Animals

When the kittens come there are so many that I can't count them or control them. They cling to me with their little kitten claws and meow little tiny kitten meows. I am saving them - trying to get them out of the closet, away from the dog or off the roof outside my bedroom window.

When I wake up, the memory of their little claws and tiny meows is strong. I have even found myself opening the closet expecting a herd of kittens to come out. The kittens are recurring. The messes they get themselves into are always new, but the rescuing the kittens dream comes at least monthly.

Last night I walked across a field to an abandoned barn and inside was a wee little piglet. I picked him up and brought him home with the idea that I would take him to the children's zoo. He was soft and yet bristly the way pigs are. He liked to be carried and he nuzzled into me and slept next to me in bed. I did not want to take him to the zoo, I realized, I wanted to keep the baby pig. I woke up and felt disappointment that the little pig was not real. I missed him.

My friend is convinced that the kittens are my children.

"And the baby pig?" I asked.

"He is your son," she said confidently.

And we laughed.