Yes, I think her momma was trying to keep them all safe. BTW, we have found out, she can meow. And she is also highly intelligent. She did not make a peep from her old house to our house. When I got her home, I sat the carrier down in the floor and left the door open. She eventually wandered out, ran under a piece of furnature, and hid in the corner. We just talked to her off and on and let her be to come out on her own. After a few minutes, she let out the faintest raspy meow. And then another and then another, etc. She finally came out of the corner and then hid under my grandmother's buffet in the dining room. After I managed to fish her out of there I sat down on the floor in front of the couch and petted her. She calmed down and then started trying to climb up on the couch with Mr. "we don't need a cat" - my brother. Curiously, he said...let her go and see what she'll do...well, she jumped right up beside him, lay down, and started cleaning herself. Then after a while she crossed over his lap, lay down between the brother and the arm of the couch and fell asleep. Talk about knowing which side to butter her bread on. After a few minutes of watching and petting her, he said..."I have to go water the rest of the shrubs. Get up here and sit by her so she can sleep."
She really is a doll, a fiesty little doll, but a doll. Right now, I'm trying to slowly introduce her to the dogs. Interestingly, the terrior is the biggest obstacle (17 pounds, old, asthmatic, and cantakerous). But marshmellows work wonders to bribe a dog into being good. My big boy, Jake, (half dobie/half rottweiller and 73 pounds) ran and hid in his carrier the first time the cat hissed at him with this expression that said, "I don't know what that is, but I'm not coming out until it's gone." It was quite hillarious. Poor baby, he is a rescue pup and a little skiddish (even after 6 years).
BTW...I've attached a picture of the momma kitty, Miss Zeola.