It was a quiet afternoon when Lulu, our beloved tabby, began pacing the living room. Her belly was round and heavy, her movements slow but purposeful. We knew this was it—the moment we had been waiting for. After years of caring for her and her kittens, Lulu was about to give birth for the very last time.
The first signs came gently: she pawed at the blanket in her nesting box, kneading it into the perfect shape. Her purr was deep and steady, almost like she was comforting herself. We stayed nearby, speaking softly, giving her space but letting her know she wasn’t alone.
Hours passed, and the house seemed to move in slow motion. Lulu would rest for a while, then get up and shift positions. Her big green eyes met mine more than once, as if asking for reassurance. I stroked her head and whispered, “You’ve got this, girl.”
As night fell, the first tiny mewl broke the silence—a new life entering the world. Lulu instinctively cleaned her kitten, tucking it close for warmth. Over the next several hours, she repeated this ritual again and again, each kitten arriving with its own small cry and squirming body. Her patience, care, and focus never wavered.
By dawn, Lulu lay surrounded by a healthy litter, her final gift to the world. She looked tired but proud, her purrs vibrating through the soft nest. We admired her strength—not just in these 12 hours, but in the years she had dedicated to raising her babies.
Knowing this would be her last litter made the moment bittersweet. We promised her that from now on, her days would be filled with nothing but rest, love, and plenty of treats. She had earned her retirement a hundred times over.
Those 12 hours were more than just a birth—they were the closing chapter of Lulu’s incredible journey as a mother. And watching her snuggle her newborns in the soft glow of morning light felt nothing short of spectacular.
