So Friday night Fred and I were hanging out in the room with the kittens, and Mia started rolling around on the floor making a lot of noise, and every time either of us would touch her, she’d immediately raise her butt in the air.
Fred said, “I think she’s in heat.” We watched her for a while longer, and she got even more agitated, and rolled around on the floor even more.
“What do we do?”
“We can’t do anything. And she’s going to get loud.” Fred once had a cat who went into heat, and she was so loud all night long that he spent the next morning calling vets and begging them to spay her that very day.
So we came downstairs where I called and left a message for the lady who runs the shelter to ask her if there was anything special I needed to do – separate her from the kittens, perhaps? I mean, I have NEVER dealt with a cat in heat before. I did some looking around online, and found mostly unhelpful advice that the way to keep a cat from going into heat was – can you guess? – have her spayed. She’s scheduled to be spayed on Thursday. Figures, right?
We decided that we’d just keep an eye on her, and if she got aggressive with the kittens in any way we’d put her in the study for a few days.
You’ve probably figured this out by now, but when we went in Saturday morning, Mia showed no signs of being in heat at all. AT ALL. In fact, she hasn’t shown any signs since. What is up with that? I mean, not that I WANTED her to be in heat, in fact, I’m quite grateful that she’s NOT, but we were really sure she was, Friday night.