The flashlight beam plays along the short, shag rug. Dozens of yellow and green eyes stare up at me. I groan inwardly and flop over to look at the clock. I shouldn?t have bothered, as always, it flashes 6:00 a.m. Muddy, my black and white tuxedo kitty had settled down onto my shoulder just moments before. The pressure of this one year old on my arm brought me out of my sleep reminding me another day is upon us.

The floor, littered with kittens makes me smile. Rows of kittens, eyes glowing in the light of the beam stare up at me. I used to call them my kitty crew, but now that so many abandoned ones have found their way into our home, I call them my kitty litter, simply for the reason stated above; they litter the floor.

Predominant colors this year are black. Black kittens get no respect in this small, narrow-minded town. They are looked upon with scorn and suspicion and especially this time of year, they can come to harm from people with no morals and no conscience of hurting another living creature.

They know instinctively when to call a morning meeting and gather at my feet. I sleep on the couch these days for it allows Mike the luxury of sleeping in, something I am no longer allowed to do. They have no alarm clocks, cell phones or BlackBerry to call the meeting to order, but here they are; kittens and cats of various sizes staring up with trust at their two-legged can opener.

Reaching for my fuzzy slippers I find they have developed a weight problem overnight. Clarence, my orange boy?s rump is placed at the heel, his head buried into the toe of the slipper. I scratch his tailhead and he plays elevator butt before finally raising his head and looking at me. His eyes betray him, he is as sleepy as me. He isn?t going to be moving anytime soon.

Barefooted, I make my way carefully into the kitchen and open up the containers of food. The minute they hear the pop top go off, the kitten scramble is on- they approach at a run some of them losing footing and sliding over the length of the tiled floor. You would think they never get fed!

I bought eighteen cans of cat food on sale last night on my way home from work. The sad part about this find is by afternoon, the food will be gone. Salem, my most alpha of the black kittens grabs onto the bottom of my pajama legs and bites down. His grip is firm- he isn?t old enough to start the mating process, but he is learning on anything he finds in his path. I wish my vet would neuter early, but no one around here will do the deed until the kittens are 6 months old. By then, I am sure one of his sisters will be pregnant. He is nothing if not persistant.

They hover around, covering the floor and diving into the food trays. Dry kibble and wet food are sacrificed to the kitty litter. They devour all in their path. Piper, my alpha female, growls as she eats. At this stage in their lives ( 9 weeks old) the kittens are used to her vocal displays of aggression. Some becoming unnerved back off and seek other trays to feast upon. She is a scamp achieving her purpose of running them off. By the time they return to her tray, she will have finished the majority of the food.

The other cats arrive now through the tunnel. The floor is littered with cats, kittens and food trays. The two-legged can opener can now retire to the living room.

?.time for coffee.