Vacation isn’t quite over. We have another whole WEEK to loll around and enjoy ourselves tremendously, with no guilt over not doing a thing we don’t feel like doing. I feel like blogging, hubby feels like canning, and Spencer the wonder dog is home, but he’d rather be at our friend’s house playing with her dog and her grandkids. *sigh* Oh well. He kept getting back in the kennel, hoping for a return to paradise. Not happenin’!
So, the little fellow wandered around the house acting a little miffed. He didn’t even greet hubby when I brought him home (I brought the dog home, not the hubby. He was already home. Just thought I’d clear that up). After wandering back and forth through the house a few times, sniffing the soup hubby was canning (yes, he’s the chief cook and bottle washer at our house – I’m the resident blogger/sewist/messmaker), whining and whimpering and inspecting the purse I was redoing for a friend, he finally settled down at my feet for a nap.
That lasted only a few minutes – just long enough for hubby to put his kennel away in the shed.
“Well, it appears we have squatters!” he remarked as he returned from the shed.
While we were gone on vacation, a feral cat decided to move in and make her home in the woodpile, and give us four little black balls of fur as down payment on her cat condo. Not that we’d intended to exact a pound of flesh from her, which is just about what these little puff balls weigh all together. Naturally, being the concerned landlady that I am, I immediately put down my sewing and went to inspect their accommodations. I was promptly greeted by very loud, piercing screeches that passed for meowing, and had four little furballs crawling up my leg, searching for milk and mama – neither of which could I produce on a moment’s notice.
What’s a landlady to do? I gathered all four in my arms and carried them to the house. A laundry basket being available, I availed. Spencer was immediately at attention. The poor dog has led a sheltered life – he’s never seen a kitten up close, and now he was staring at FOUR of them. Why did I bring them into the house, I asked myself more than once, as I carried them from room to room in the basket, Spencer my constant companion. Finally I decided on the dining room floor as the proper site for introductions, and set the basket gently on the floor, camera in hand to record the initial meeting.
At first, Spencer just stuck his head in the basket and sniffed the little noisemakers, but his curiosity quickly got the best of him, and he decided to taste one. I think he liked the taste, because as soon as I removed that one from his mouth, he tried for another one. At this point he was picking them up like a mama cat does, gently by the scruff of the neck. I didn’t want to chance that he’d get his doggy on and go for the jugular, so I picked the basket up and put it out of his reach, kittens yowling and meowing all the while.
It was the noise, the noise! It made Spencer lose all inhibition, and he became The Canine Combatant, in full feline-fighting mode. The kitties went to the back porch with a bowl of milk and a tempered glass door for protection. They ignored the milk, crawling through it and smearing it all over the floor of the porch, crying and yowling and heading straight for the glass door to greet Spencer. “Mama, Mama, Mama” kept screeching from those little kitty-mouths. I never knew a thing so tiny could make such an ear-splitting racket.
Finally, after all Spencer’s attempts to eat through the glass door had failed, as had all my attempts to entice the kittens to drink the milk, I took them back to the spot where hubby had found them. They crawled around and cried for Mama and tried to climb my pants leg. We still had our old dog’s doghouse, so I put them under the top part of that for protection and hoped their mama would show up. So far she hasn’t, and I really hope she hasn’t been hit by a car or eaten by a big dog or something. Hubby is allergic to cats, and Spencer is hungry for cats, and I don’t want any more pets to take care of. So, please, Mama Cat, come home! I promise not to charge you rent on the cat condo (for now)!
Well, that was our first full day home from the travel part of our vacation. Welcome home!!
How was YOUR day? Want a kitty?? Or four???