Wild Kitten Update

Just figured it was time for a quick "wild kitten update". Here are two of the three siblings that have been visiting our backyard garden this summer. Of course, Momma visits, too. These two decided that an afternoon lounging on the backyard swing was on their agenda. Don't they look comfy?

Joe dutifully puts out fresh food and water for them each evening. Then he keeps watch to see when they come by, alerting me when they visit. Once in a while we happen upon them when we are outside. They won't really let us get very close, but they will rest comfortably, like lions in the tall grass of the jungle, beneath the vibernum bush in the corner of the backyard.

I love having them here. I openly wonder where they are on days when they don't come by. Partly worried that something has happened to them, or that they've found better accommodations. Surely we have the nicest spot on the block, don't we? Why would they want to hang about elsewhere? Really, Kimberly, jealous of anyone else in the neighborhood with wild and adorable visitors? Yeah, that's me. I don't lose any sleep over it though.

Not yet, anyway.

Wild Beauty

So, it's nearly Thanksgiving already. My the year has flown. Last year, on the day after Thanksgiving, I was at work and my husband stopped by the shop I work at to surprise me with lunch, and to show me some video he had taken in the backyard that morning. A local feral cat had shown up with two kittens in tow. They were romping around our backyard, playing amongst the worn out garden and leaves. They were adorable.

We were on the lookout for them after that, and eventually discovered there were four kittens in all. We would put out food and it would disappear, but they managed to come by when we weren't looking, or weren't home.

When winter came, we wrapped a big tarp around a swing we had in the yard. One day we discovered that Momma kitty and her kittens were enjoying the shelter inside the tarp. I had hopes of trapping them and getting them to a shelter, but I've never done that before, and they were rather inconsistant in their visits. And, being winter, I didn't want to set a live trap and have them out in the cold all day without any decent cover.

So, I enabled them instead. I got two big wine crates, some old fleece blankets, and set them up on the cushions of the swing inside the tarp. They made themselves at home. Trouble is, any time we got close, they took off running so fast, there was no way we could catch them. So, we just kept putting out food, and watched for them.

One sunny winter morning I looked out the bedroom window to see a couple of them playing, peeking in and out of the tarp. I quickly grabbed my camera and started snapping pictures. I got some great shots and posted them on flickr. When spring came we took the tarp apart, washed all the blankets, and dismantled the swing. It needed new cushions anyway. Some friends of ours took the swing and rehabbed it for themselves, and we got a new swing with removable cushions.

Earlier today I looked out the bedroom window and discovered one of the kittens, now a full-grown cat, napping on the new swing. I'm sure he's done it before, just not when we've been around. I called my husband, Joe, to come and see, and we both snapped some photos of our guest. That adorable kitten had grown into a beautiful, wild, cat. Eventually, a neighbor walked by and the cat ran off to some other spot.

Watching him rest on the swing, it was clear he was truly enjoying himself. Basking in the sunlight, and the softness of the cushions.

We dismantled the cushions today, got the yard winter-ready. But I'm worried about that cat. And his mother and siblings, too. Clearly they've made it this far on their own. But winter is coming again. I'll have to come up with some kind of shelter for them for those cold, cold nights. Maybe this year I'll be able to rescue a furry friend.

Is it age, or the parakeets?

I've always liked animals. We had cats and dogs, the occasional mouse, gerbil or hamster growing up. I even had a wonderful parakeet named Hutch for many of my teenage years. I was never much of a dog person. Not that I would be mean to one. In fact, I get very upset if I see one mistreated. They're just not my thing.

When my husband Joe and I first moved in together, I expressed an interest in getting a bird. I wasn't certain, however, if it was the right time. We both worked long hours, and I worried about it being alone all day. Plus we were adapting to living together, and that in itself was an adventure for two people used to being on their own.

Finally, a few years later, after we were married, I decided it was time. I gave Joe the option - baby or bird. Well, I was joking, really. Both in our 40's by the time we married, kids weren't in the plan. I've never really had that deeply felt longing. An occasional yearning, sure. But it just never felt right. So, we brought Tori home, and thus began our parakeet adventures. And my mellowing...

Like many parents, I have, on occasion, projected my emotions/perceptions onto the birds. I've decided that they are sad, or hurt, or lonely. Sometimes I think my perceptions are right, after all, I know them well. But I can go a bit overboard.

But aside from that, I started to look adoringly at dogs out for walks with their owners. At stray cats and kittens in the neighborhood. I convinced Joe to put up a tarp over our yard swing, and put in crates with warm fleece blankets to keep the kitties warm over the winter. I put out food for them. Took pictures of them playing in the snow. I started looking into rescuing them. So far that hasn't worked out.

I now talk to the wild birds in the yard. I talk to Mr. Squirrel (of Hallmark fame). I had a rather one-sided conversation with a baby mourning dove the other day. He/she was resting comfortably under one of our lawn chairs.

We've put out feeders for the wild birds. I've even taken to talking to spiders and ants, and other critters, putting them outside of the house instead of squashing them. It just feels better not to destroy them. After all, what's the point. I haven't, however, crossed this spiritual threshold with centipedes. I hate them. I just do. Fortunately, I don't see them too often.

Early this spring I was doing some cleaning. And discovered an ant on the counter. I decided to take it outside, not kill it. I got it to crawl onto a piece of paper to take it out. But, when I turned to go outside, I knocked over a diet coke and it spilled all over the kitchen floor. I took the ant outside and released it. Returned to the kitchen to clean up the spill, and slipped on some ice cubes and did the splits falling to the floor. I haven't done the splits since high school gymnastics, and even then, not really. But this was authentic. And I felt it. The muscles in my legs pulled in ways I didn't know were possible. I sat for a moment on the wet floor, and then slowly got up. I was sore for a day or two. Good karma and clean kitchen floors. I guess it was worth it.

So, the question is...is all this goodwill due to the mellowing that comes with age (not necessarily with hot flashes), or is it a byproduct of having these wonderful birds as companions? (I'm sure my sweet husband has something to do with it as well).

I still swat at mosquitoes. After all, they want my blood. But I also had a brief conversation with a firefly the other night. Well, I did the talking...