Wild Goose On The Fly—Scones & a Confession The End

By now the kittens were waiting for me, albeit at a distance.  Even though it smacks of personification, I think the babies not only looked forward to the treats I brought, but were snickering at the antics of this human crawling around on her belly and making rather  odd noises.  Also I did wonder what the patrons of the restaurant thought, when they spied a woman lying in the underbrush near the dumpsters apparently talking to herself.

With a priestly solemnity I named them Oliver, Buffy, Francis, Mr. Grey Stripes and  Priscilla.  After the first morning I never saw the Mother again.

Since I was  emotionally vested in this cat family, my zeal  to capture, tame and find homes for them had the power of a launch rocket at Cape Canaveral.

A week of executing Plan A only produced futile fruit, so I enlisted the aid of the Humane Society and rented a tender trap.  It’s a  small wire cage baited with food. When the cat enters, wham the spring springs into action ( I could have chosen another verb, but I liked using spring springs—-some how my mind sprang to Springsteen and I mentally rocked for a minute) –back to the story—and the door shuts.

The first day I caught Buffy.  Subsequently I snagged Oliver, Mr. Grey Stripes and Francis.   Even though i returned for several days, Priscilla had vanished like her mother and I had to abandoned the effort.

Despite being only three or four  months old  the babies bit and scratched with fright.  However Oliver, the first kitten I had spotted, was only half the size.  Every breath was an effort and he was too weak to fight me.  I carted them off to my vet, a darling man who  happened to be named Dr. Darling——and no I did not make this up because I gravitate toward lame word play.   Baby Oliver had heart worms.  I cried as the poor  little mite was  gently put to sleep.

Upon investigation Mr. Grey Strips had  his/her name changed to Cora.  She had a non-infectious skin malady which left her coat  thin and patchy.  Buffy and Francis required  treatment for eye infections.   Try giving eye drops to half  wild kittens or better yet make a supreme effort to avoid that experience.

Oh yes, let me share my family’s reaction, reminding you none of them had any suspicion of what I had been doing with my mornings the past week.  This is where  Marcie’s splendid casserole featured at the top comes into play.  I deliberately prepared a meal which would  mellow out all  three males.

While they were eating with gusto I casually said, “Oh I think I forgot to mention the kittens from the restaurant—you remember we saw one last weekend—-are living in a large dog kennel in our daylight basement.”

Complete incredulity describes my husband reaction.  You know the wide wild eyed look and the mouth moving with no words coming out. On the other hand the boys were unfazed by my announcement.  They merely gave each other the look of the secret brotherhood and asked for seconds.

It took  months of patience, but eventually all the kittens calmed down and became loving house cats—- in our home of course.  I couldn’t just give them away, could I?   Now we are back full circle as to why I am a level one certifiable sap.

Spring over to Marcie’s site at Flavor Moments for this family  pleasing recipe