Remember when I was all mad because there were Ginger Cats having loud sex behind my air conditioning unit? Well, apparently, they kept practicing and eventually got it right. How do I know this? Well, I'll tell ya - THERE WERE KITTENS BEHIND MY AC!!!!!!!
Daddy Don went out there yesterday to chase a Ginger away. He noticed a tiny movement. It was a kitten. I took Lily Ruth out to see, and it was TWO tiny kittens.
We had some dinner then went out to check again. All of a sudden, it was SIX tiny kittens!
They seem to be new to walking, but that means that we're going to start seeing a lot more of them. Now I'm freaking out about what I'm supposed to do with six kittens. I'm also afraid that they will fall into the pool... or be beaten up by one of their daddies... or not get enough to eat because cats are terrible mamas... Why do I have to be so nice? Why can't I just not care what happens to the tiny babies? Dammit.
Well, this story has a happy ending (for me) because the mama cat spent ALL F'ING NIGHT moving the kittens. It kept Keely up for HOURS. Now they are in the hedge next to the pool... because CATS ARE CRAPPY PARENTS. We were in the pool this evening when I noticed a teeny-tiny cat watching us from the viney-overgrown wackiness between our elderly neighbors and ourselves. If either of us had any cash or any dignity, there would not be a place that you could hide six kittens there. But we each have to be who we are, so there happens to be a falling down fence overgrown with a vine that creates a perfect (???) den.
When I went over to their house to mention the kittens, she already knew. I think that she has maybe been in our yard when we're not home, but whatever. Not only was she not surprised about the kittens, but she knew where they had started out, where they were now, and how many there are.
She did seem a bit concerned about the fact that she has to pay a no-kill shelter every 3-4 months to take a new litter of kittens. It took a lot for me to not offer to help pay, BUT they're not my kittens! My cats are fixed. I expressed sympathy, but that was all. I was proud of myself for not taking on this wackiness. Daddy Don is relieved.
It gets better, ya'll. Daddy Don went out to find Frank for dinner. He came back sans Frank, but avec concerned expression. There was a baby bird on the ground. DAMMIT.
It was hideously ugly and oh so very small. I found a Victoria's Secret bag and a rag to line it. I picked it up (with the towel) and put the bag in the fork of the tree it was closest to.
I checked on it several times as I finished dinner. Then the doorbell rang. A neighbor child was attempting to return the bag. The tiny bird was on the ground again. As a group, we discussed it and decided to leave tiny bird there least it fling itself from the tree AGAIN and hurt itself. It was really hard to walk away, but I did.
I'm overwhelmed with the fecund offerings of nature this weekend. I may close the blinds and refuse to examine any further examples. Dammit.