Wild Goose on the Fly—–Reality? Imagination? A Tantalizing Mix of Both?
The following morning steeped in my 1950’s best mother mode, I prepared an eggs benedict casserole breakfast to send my family off to work and school. The deliciousness of the surprise eradicated any suspicion that might have arisen as to why such a dish appeared on a week day.
As I drove back to the restaurant armed with a can of cat food, I did feel niggling tinges of guilt at my subterfuge. However visions of the orange kitten reactivated my ride to the rescue zeal, which wiped out all guilt immediately.
After I parked, I checked out the logistics of the geography affecting my mission. The dumpsters were positioned against a wall of dense evergreen shrubbery six feet tall and branched all the way to the ground. These in turn were bordered by a row of large rhododendrons. This mini forest prevented me from directly walking up to the hidey hole in the foundation. In fact unless the kitten came out and once again lounged directly in front of the dumpster, the only way I could possible spot him was to get on my hands and knees and peer under and through the branches. Which of course is exactly what I did for several minutes.
Touch Down! I spied a patch of orange on the move. Gouging my fingers into the soft, stinky, fish cat food, I extracted a tempting ball and lobbed it in the direction of the kitten. Without too much hesitation, he took the bait. Speaking soothingly in baby talk, I edged closer. By this time I was on my belly pushing my way under the evergreen branches, which were poking insistently through my t-shirt into my skin.
However in a quick move, my cute little prey scampered off. Apparently he had an eat and run philosophy in regard to meal time. To quell my disappointment I bolstered myself with a dose of rah rah talk. After all one can’t expect instant success, but truthfully I had internalized that over confident expectation. With visions of Jane Goodall dancing in my head, I continued my vigilance.
After about five minutes I caught another tantalizing glimpse of orange. I lobbed another missile of succulent food. This time the tentative ritual of cautious sniffing was dispensed with, he dove right in. With satisfaction I watched, then I blinked and looked again. Hey, that’s not the same orange kitten. Before I had time to ponder this realization, a buff colored kitten sauntered into view. After an hour lying on my stomach as determined as any National Geographic correspondent, my nostrils filled with the scent of dirt and fish cat food and enduring persistent pokes from the vegetation, I determined there were five kittens and a mother cat. My mission objective had increased by six fold. Five mornings in a row I faithfully drove back to the restaurant.
To be continued. Trust me, you do NOT want to miss out on this outstanding breakfast casserole. Hop over to Amy at Chew out Loud to get the recipe.