I've been trying to pay extra attention this week to things that I might share with you. I've been carrying around a notebook and a pen to jot down those fleeting thoughts that would otherwise be forgotten. I even went so far as to charge the battery in my camera. The thing is, when something does happen, when the unexpected knocks on your door and says, "Whaassuuuupp???", you're never ready. At least I'm not. And then I'm scrambling for a pen or a crayon or a piece of broken chalk in my desperate search for a writing implement. Bills get knocked off the kitchen table in the mad dash to locate the elusive, but charged camera. The thing sinks to the bottom of my purse in the same manner that I imagine rare bottles of wine sink through the murky depths of the deep dark sea after falling from doomed ships.
This morning Michael was opening the blinds in the living room and said very calmly and evenly, "You have to come here now." He said it in such a way that I knew there was no time to waste. Beagle was sitting calmly in the chair nearest the window but seemed fine. I reached Michael and knew that I was supposed to see something out the window.
There it was. A cat. So unremarkable. This is what he wanted me to see?
"Oh, yeah. Beagle's being really good. She's not barking."
"Did you see it? The pile?" he asked.
I stepped closer to the window and looked again.
"Oh my god, oh my godohmygodohmygod!"
Kittens everywhere
There was a sleeping mound of kittenjoy below the window in front of my car. There was a mama cat with a baby. There were kitten feet sticking out from behind trees. They seemed to be everywhere. It was like some underground cat lab had blown up and kittens had rained down upon us. Lovely, lovely little kittens.
I counted six babies plus the mama. They're too wild to catch but hungry enough to clean out a bowl of kibble in a few short minutes. The goal, of course, is to round them up and get them to our new no-kill shelter.
I am going to keep her and call her Sylvie.
Shhh...Michael does not know this yet.
OMGosh! They're adorable!!! Eeeeek! I don't blame you a bit ... you should definitely keep her :) And, you got such great shots! It's going to be a good day :)
Posted by: Cat | Dec 10, 2012 at 06:50 AM
Sylvie definitely looks like trouble.
Posted by: Leslee | Dec 10, 2012 at 07:16 AM
Yes, Sylvie is most definitely trouble. She is the bravest, she is the scout. She always goes first. Maybe she's a he, I don't know. I really don't know that we can keep Sylvie. I claimed her on impulse, and really, I rather prefer the tabby.
Posted by: Roberta | Dec 10, 2012 at 09:37 AM
The photos were taken through a window and screen from a ways away. I'm surprised they came out as well as they did - it took some photo enhancement but hey, that's what we've got this terrific software for, isn't it! They must be early risers. I checked their food bowl this morning and it's empty already.
Posted by: Roberta | Dec 10, 2012 at 09:39 AM
She looks exactly like a Sylvie! How precious. I hope and pray you can rescue the little darlings. Poor mama. Please keep us posted.
Posted by: Grace Peterson | Dec 10, 2012 at 10:37 AM
I thought so too, Grace! When my mind made a name for her I thought she was meant to keep. We'll see. They are very wild and although they look tiny, I suspect they are about 8 weeks old. They become independent very quickly.
Posted by: Roberta | Dec 10, 2012 at 11:02 AM
Good Luck! I hope you put out something for them to hide in tonight.
Posted by: Katina | Dec 10, 2012 at 10:26 PM
We talked about it Katina, but they live under the next door neighbor's house and I think it's probably warmer under there than anything that we could have provided them with. I did make plenty of food available so they have some calories to burn. Maybe full bellies will be some comfort in this chilly weather.
Posted by: Roberta | Dec 10, 2012 at 10:30 PM