These pix, shared by Cleopatra and Cricket’s new family, show the transforming power of patience and love. The kids knew instinctively that spending time with the kittens in their safe space was the best way to draw them out of fear and into family. And one thing is really clear: this is a family of true cat people.

I hope that the success story of our Woodpile Kittens inspires others to take a chance, and help change the fate of a semi-wild or abandoned animal. The shelters are full of creatures in need, and sometimes you hear a call to service right in your own backyard.

They say it’s better to give than receive, and right now I know that’s true. We just gave away the two cute little Woopile Kittens that we’ve come to know and love … and the joy and warmth we feel has made this the Best Christmas Ever.

For the past five days Brett and I have been caring for Cleopatra and Cricket in our dining room. Their new family had a holiday trip scheduled, so we decided to postpone our own travel plans, bring the kitts inside, and get them further socialized and acclimated to life in a human setting.

It was a little tricky at first: neither one had ever been inside, and they hid in a cardboard box for a while. As they got accustomed to the new sounds and smells they started to explore a bit. Cricket, the most gregarious of the litter, decided pretty quickly that this new world was okay. He approached me, and when I plopped him on my knee he looked up at my face with familiarity, not fear. This is the moment I call “the turn,” when a wild kitten sees you as family, not threat.

It took Cleopatra a bit longer. In fact, for a while she disappeared completely. We searched the room several times, but it seemed like she had vanished into thin air! Then we noticed a flaw in our blockade – she had slipped past a large sheet of cardboard and gotten into the kitchen. Then she squeezed under the dishwasher into a narrow space beneath the kitchen floorboards. It took an hour to coax her out. But despite all the stress, Cleo soon followed Cricket’s lead: later that day she “turned” too.

From then on, the two of them couldn’t get enough petting and playing. When Brett and I left their room they romped together, then rested together, cuddled up in a flower pot or burrowed beneath one of the kids’ blankets the family had left with us.

The big day came today, Christmas Day. And the kitts were really ready. The family had flown in on the red-eye at 3 am, and showed up at our place at noon. The parents looked a little bleary eyed, but the kids (Claire, 5; and Eli, 8 ) were so excited they could hardly sit still as I offered a few tips on caring for their new animal companions.

When we peeked into the dining room the kitts were sleeping in a cardboard cat carrier on Claire’s blanket. No need for my elaborate plans for getting them into carriers. I carefully closed the box up. Huddled in the warm blanket and comforted by each other’s presence, they remained calm and quiet.

We suddenly noticed we were being watched. The mother cat, dubbed “Queen Anne OmegaCat” in Brett’s story (below) was perched on the window sill looking in. We all went outside to feed her – a way of saying thanks for the great kittens – and took of few pictures in front of the legendary Woodpile.

Then the family gently carried their precious cargo to the minivan and drove home to enjoy the rest of this very special Christmas Day.

The two were born in Woodpile Kingdom. It is in the borderlands of Takoma Park and Prince George’s County – in the Maryland Dimension. Some of their ancestors belong to Sacred Warrior Clans.

Cricket’s Secret

Cricket’s royal name is Prince Cricket FireCat of the WoodpileClan. His clan gifts are fire play and cat acrobatics. He specializes in quick cat karate and action leaps.

His energy runs deep and quiet but ignites like fire, quick as a flash. His ancestors were the protectors of Woodpile Kingdom. He is the last of his sacred line and carries the wisdom and strength of his lineage in his heart. He is dedicated to protecting his sister. She is to be the future Queen of Woodpile Kingdom, as the last sister of the WoodpileClan.

Cleopatra’s Secret

Cleopatra’s Royal name is Princess Cleopatra ShyCat. Her clan gift is finding secret places for meditation and healing. She specializes in near invisibility. She can easily slip from sight, like she was just a day dream, a faint image in the mind that is not really there.

Her energy is nervous and calm. Her ancestors were the holders of the power in Woodpile Kingdom. Cleopatra needs a safe place to live because the politics of Woodpile Kingdom has changed, since there can be no more kitten heirs born. Skyhawks are now stalking the skies.

Cleopatra and Cricket are to find a new kingdom. Their mother’s stories have made them hopeful, but a little cautious. She has spoken of a vision where they are happy in a new home. Cricket and Cleopatra are eagerly looking forward to their new life.

Queen Anne OmegaCat

Queen Anne OmegaCat is a peacemaker for all the Cat Clans. Her special genes allowed her to have kittens that she could teach blended clan gifts.

She hopes Prince Cricket and Princess Cleopatra will be able to blend their powers and stay close as they grow. Cricket’s fire and Cleopatra’s calm make a perfect balance when they are together. Queen Anne knows they will have to leave Woodpile Kingdom to find their destinies among the Tall Ones. To protect their royal identities until then, she rarely mentions their royal titles.

In a dream vision, she sees a Blended Kingdom where a mom, a dad, and two young ones will honor her children. This kingdom is for Tall Ones and cats. Her vision is fading now. That is her sign that the time is drawing near for the vision to come true.

This December 2007, when bone chilling cold blows deep below freezing in Woodpile Kingdom – threatening their very lives – Queen Anne does a hard thing for a mother to do. She asks the Tall One who has been feeding them, to please take her royal young out of Woodpile Kingdom. With a hopeful heart, she knows once they are gone they will find their true home.

Deep in the dark night, with bitter winds blowing, she climbs up on the window sill and peers into the den of the Tall Ones to make sure her kitts are safe. Seeing them cozy and warm, she cries a silent meow, sad that they are lost to her forever. Yet pleased that her plan has worked … the kitts of the royal line are safe, and their new life has begun.

BLU is a deep blue-grey male with sable soft fur and a quiet, thoughtful disposition. Like his two siblings, Blu is friendly and will allow you to hold and pet him (especially around feeding time!) – UPDATE: Blu has found a human companion and they’re just crazy about each other!

CLEOPATRA, a female, is a slightly lighter shade of grey than Blu, but her coat is just as silky. She’s affectionate and mellow, and loves to chase anything that moves. UPDATE: Cleo has found a home!

CRICKET, a tiger-striped male, is slightly smaller than his siblings, but more than makes up for it with his spunk and curiosity. He’s probably the most socialized, people friendly of the bunch, and would likely make the quickest transition to house-cat. Cricket is a polydactyl “Hemingway Cat” … he has extra toes that give him extra dexterity and enhance his puckish personality. UPDATE: Cricket is going with his sister Cleopatra to a nice warm home in Takoma Park!

Cats who grew up in the great outdoors can be a bit more energetic and skittish than their domesticated cousins, and they deserve a human companion who understands their special needs and appreciates their distinctive character.

In my classified ads, and in conversations with potential adopters, I avoid the F-word, “feral.” Or “semi-feral.” Because our Woodpile Kitts are not wild. Maybe a bit impatient to find a loving human companion; perhaps a little annoyed at having to stay outside, and certainly anxious when the weather gets nasty.

These kittens are clean, healthy, and gentle. In all the months I’ve been caring for them I have never been scratched. Instead, they sit on my knee and demand that I scratch them. And rub them, pet them, and tease them with improvised toys made out of long twigs and leaves. Cleopatra will sometime reach out and tap my hand, to say “OK, enough petting. Open that can of food!”

And the truth is, tamed strays are a blast. Shadow (from the same woodpile, born to the same stray MommaCat) is my fourth, and, like the others I’ve plucked from various alleys and dumpsters, he’s lean and athletic, super-stealthy, very playful, and tightly bonded to me. He likes my partner Brett too, but since I spent a lot of time socializing Shadow after we took him inside, he sees me as his “alpha cat,” and wants to hang around where ever I happen to be. As I type these words, he’s zonked out, half on my lap, half on the laptop. (Which may not be such a great place for him… see cautionary tale.)

It does take time to build that trust with a cat from outside. But the Woodpile Kitts pictured here are actually far more socialized than Shadow was when he joined us; they are ready. Are you? Call Marcus at 703-898-0770 any time of the day or night for more information. Or email me: marcus(at)bigblackcat.org (substitute the real “at” symbol in the address)

Here’s contact information and a photo gallery of our Woodpile Kitten Colony

NEWS FLASH – Tuesday 11th December 2007 – Blu was adopted yesterday! His new owner reports that Blu bonded to him in less than half an hour: “He’s sleeping in my lap and purring like mad.” Blu also delighted his new family by demonstrating that he knows what a cat box is used for. I hope this encourages folks who are interested in our Woodpile Kittens but wonder whether they’re tame enough. They’re not only tame, they love people… These little guys want to move inside and be with you!

Today in our Takoma Park, Maryland backyard, my three feral kittens and I were attacked by a Red Shouldered Hawk that swooped down from the treetops.

The kitts had just eaten and I was sitting on a log playing with them when the giant bird slammed into the dried leaves about two feet behind me. I jumped, the cats scattered, and the hawk, which had targeted Cricket, flew into a tree next door and watched us for a few seconds before soaring off. This thing was huge, with a wing span of well over three feet, and I squinted against the bright autumn sun to see if he had somebody clutched in his talons. Couldn’t be sure…

Dizzy with adrenaline, heart racing, I did a frenzied cat-count as, one by one, they poked their heads out from various hiding places. Cricket was the last to appear; he had scampered into their little shelter and was understandably cautious about coming out. Like the rest of us, he scanned the sky for danger. I had the weird sense of having slipped down a notch on the food chain.

Only MommaCat, who had watched the scene play out from a nearby stack of lumber, seemed unsurprised.

NOTE: I recently trapped Shadow’s Mom and took her to the Washington Humane Society to be spayed. The trapping proved a lot harder than I had anticipated, and I was going to describe the whole arduous process here… until I discovered that MommaCat had already contacted the media with her side of the story! Here’s the transcript of her interview with The Cat Tattler…

Cat Tattler: MommaCat, your kittens reported you missing five days ago. Tell us, in your own words, where you’ve been.

MommaCat: I was kidnapped by aliens. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. The Tall Ones are very clever. They set a trap for me, put some really good meat in it, and waited for me to walk right in. But I’m pretty clever too. I went in, but I stepped carefully and ate the meat without stepping on that ridiculous bar on the floor. Then I backed out.

Cat Tattler: So how did they catch you?

MommaCat: Well, they changed the setup, added some kind of stick, and a string too. A Tall One put more meat in the trap, and hid behind a tree. I guess he thought we couldn’t see him, but he was so obvious! At first my kitts kept running into the trap to eat the meat and the Tall One ran out yelping and squirting the kitts with water from an alien weapon. Then he fed them so much that they lost interest in the trap and wandered away. I thought the whole thing looked fishy… but it smelled fishy too! Quite irresistible actually.

Cat Tattler: So you went back in?

MommaCat: Big mistake. I thought it was safe: the Tall One disappeared into his giant den. But as soon as I reached the fish, BAM! The stick flew off and a door slammed down! And the aliens took me away.

Cat Tattler: What did they do to you?

MommaCat: Well, they stuck horrible things into my body, I know that. They cast a spell on me and made me sleep so deep! And when I woke up, I could tell they had done, well, nasty things to me. They shaved my, uh, you know– and, let’s just say I’ve been very sore down there…

Cat Tattler: !!!

MommaCat: And I think one of them tried to eat me while I was asleep.

Cat Tattler: Really?

MommaCat: Oh yes. See? They bit off part of my ear!

UPDATE: After a night of recuperation in our laundry room, MommaCat was returned to the woodpile behind the house. As soon as I opened the trap she bolted for the adjacent woods, propelled almost completely by her front legs, dragging her sore hind legs behind her. Three days later she reappeared, hungry and rather testy with her kitts. But she’s accepting food and letting me sit with her as she eats. She still doesn’t trust us aliens, but she likes our food…

OH AND: The “ear tipping” is done on feral cats who have been neutered as a signal to help prevent them from being retrapped and possibly euthanized.