Monday, November 17, 2014

Put On The Goodwill Cashmere And Find The Socks.

The weather has cleared and it's getting colder. The boys and I had a delicious time of it today. We made cookies and played Play Dough and here's Gibson giving me a birthday cake.

The kid can sing the Happy Birthday song surprisingly well and in tune. I was impressed all four times he sang it to me. To continue the birthday theme, Owen gave me a rock for a birthday present and he, too, sang the song to me. I have no idea where the birthday thing is coming from. It's certainly long past that actual day. 

We played Simon Says and read a few books and watched Sponge Bob and did stuff outside and they played hide and chase in the house. At one point, Owen slipped and fell down and Gibson came running and said, "Owen, you okay?"
"Owen said, "I'm okay," and then they hugged. 
I, of course, went all teary and shit because that's some damn sweetness right there. 
I love how Owen looks out for Gibson. Once today Gibson left the fenced area to go see the chickens and I had my eye on him but Owen said, "Mer. My brother is outside the fence."
"I know," I said. "I'm watching him."
And Owen was satisfied with that. 
They have each other's backs. As good brothers should. 

So. Here's the big news around the Moon residence today. There are at least two feral kittens in the yard. I thought I heard one crying under the house this morning but somehow convinced myself that it had been Maurice, just beyond the kitchen door. 
Ah, the bliss of denial.
Later, I heard the sound again and went outside to see a tiny, tiny fluffy orange kitten streaking across the yard. There was no way to get close to it. Every time it saw one of us, he or she would take off like a rocket, only to return to cry piteously. I finally realized that I was hearing two, at least, but I never laid eyes on the other one. And of course it's going to get down to 30-something tonight and maybe 20 tomorrow night. I've done a completely stupid thing and put a space heater in the pump house with towels beside it in a little plastic bin. And cut up chicken and set it out there because I'm not even sure the babies can eat dry cat food. Maurice has been following them around all day long. Luna, the outdoor cat, doesn't seem to have even noticed them. 
It's so upsetting, the tiny mews and cries. And I couldn't set out food until the chickens had gone to bed because they would eat anything I put out. 
They've stopped crying now so maybe they've found the warm bed. I hope so. I'd go out and check but if they heard me, they'd run again. 

I do not want to be the Crazy Old Cat Lady and I do not want to have to trap these mites. Well, I've done what I can do tonight and we'll see what tomorrow brings. Hellfire and damnation to those who abandon animals. And somehow the whole trap-spay/neuter-release thing strikes me as just cruel. It's a hard, hard life and sure, cats can catch their food but not easily and they kill too many song birds. They're domesticated (slightly) animals and it's not right to expect them to live by their wits and bloody claws and teeth. 
Fuck. I don't know.
I'm pretty sure though, that these babies would not make especially good pets. Maybe for someone with a lot of time and a lot of patience. 
I am not that person. Trust me.

The wind is bringing in the cold air and I am more than grateful for heat and walls and for a way to cook food that doesn't involve cutting and splitting wood and bringing it in. And for having hot water that doesn't require toting and heating on a stove. I tell you this- at one point today I had a pocketful of just-laid eggs and a good handful of arugula and baby mustards and kale from the garden for my salad tonight and they boys were playing happily in the yard and I felt once again like the richest woman in the world. 

I pretty much still do.

Stay warm, y'all. Let's all have each other's backs when we can. Help each other up when we fall because sure as shit, we're all going to fall sometime and we'll need someone to help us back up. 
Hugging and saying "I love you," doesn't hurt either. 

Your Friend In Constant Communication...Ms. Moon


  1. A pocketful of eggs. I love that image. You are a good egg Mary Moon. Those cats know it.

  2. Yeah, this is exactly how all crazy cat ladies start. I have every confidence you'll be fine, though. My cats have graduated to the 'old, cranky and complaining' phase of life, so if you need another two for the herd, let me know.

  3. You are a force of nature and I love you. I would be doing the same, putting food and comfort out for the little babes. I cannot turn a deaf ear to crying and suffering. I ran a wild dog pack off once with fire crackers that was nipping at and surrounding a neighbor's goat. I heard it cry and it sounded so human and tracked down the sound early one morning.

  4. Crazy Old Cat Ladies all started with just one. Just one. My first cat was Harriet. Then came Angus. Then The Ungrateful Bastard that is also called Norbert. Personally, I want to be Crazy Old Cat Lady. I love cats. I even have the bumper sticker. (I love my cat. My cat does not care.) I also spend way too much time on Pinterest pinning lol cats.

    I am so glad that Owen and Gibson are so in sync with one another and have so much love between them. That alone will take them far in life.

  5. You are full of love Ms. Moon. I love you. Sweet Jo

  6. I think trap-spay-neuter isn't ideal, but as I understand it, it actually helps manage the cat population -- if you remove feral cats from the environment, supposedly other cats will come in to replace them. Whereas if they hold their own territory the other cats won't settle there and reproduce. That's how it's been explained to me, anyway.

    But yeah, not ideal, and certainly not easy for the cats.

  7. Feral cats? Good lord. Too much nature. I'm more accustomed to the sound of helicopters than mewing.

  8. Owen and Gibson could melt even the coldest of hearts! You should write a children's book series about them.

    The cats? That makes me sad. I'm a sucker for four legged creatures.

  9. Dear Richest Friend, Thank you for sharing your life and words. I won't let you become that old cat lady if you do the same for me.

  10. Any chance those kittens belong to Maurice? They had to have a mom, who else's could they be? Is she fixed? How long ago?


  11. Angella- I think they just smelled food. Poor babies!

    Jon- Thanks but I think I'll pass.

    Ellen Abbott- I love you too! I climbed over a neighbor's fence one day to free a goat who'd gotten her leg stuck in a tree and she was literally hanging from it. Don't they sound human?

    Denise- I think it's just a mammalian trait to respond to babies' cries. Don't you?

    Birdie- Perfect bumpersticker! No. Maurice is all the cat I want. She fulfills all my cat needs. Plus I have the outdoor semi-feral cat that I've had for over fifteen years.
    You are so right about the boys. They love each other.

    Sweet Jo- And some of it is directed right to you!

    Steve Reed- I know. I get it. But it still seems very far from perfect.

    Elizabeth- Too much nature. Exactly. As you know.

    Ms. Yo- I will try! Thank you!

    Invisigal- No. Maurice has been here way longer than those kittens have been alive. She was very young when she came along and I got her spayed right after her first heat. They could, however, be siblings I suppose.

  12. It got below freezing here and we were prepared. Thankfully, no baby kittens to deal with. The dogs and cats are all snoozing in their warm rooms.
    Hope that you can catch the baby kittens. Related to Maurice?


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.