More Cat Drama

I hope that early in the week won't be too late to get the kittens picked up by the cat rescue people. Tommy Two-Tone has discovered where they are, and I had to run him off twice today— the first time within seconds of waking up, when I was still unfocused. I heard a cat fight and ran to the back door as quickly as I could. Tommy took off as soon as the door opened, and Farah immediately went back to her kittens. Tommy came back a couple of hours later, so I had to run him off again.

I don't think he's gotten to any of the kittens yet, but Farah has moved them farther back into the bushes where I can't seen them well enough to do a head count. I'm going to have to watch the yard constantly, because I don't think Farah has a backup plan to move the whole litter to another place. She might have brought them into the house if Portia weren't here. I can't call the cat rescue place until Monday, and I'm not sure how long it will be before they can get here. It will be an exhausting weekend.

Anyway, it's drizzling again tonight, so maybe Tommy will stay away. I've seldom seen him come by when it was raining. Like most cats, he doesn't like to get wet.

Disapproved

The new roses took a beating from that hail. Diagonal streaks hit the street and bounced. Whipped leaves tried to flee the wind, but only the flower petals let go and fell, flecking the whitened road verge with pink. It was over in minutes. The hail melted as quickly as it had fallen. Acorn woodpeckers left the shelter of the telephone pole to which they had been clinging, and brightening clouds filled the sudden pools of water with sky light.

It's been happening all afternoon. It will probably happen all night, and tomorrow, and Tuesday, and maybe Wednesday as well. Something disapproves of spring.


( Sunday Verse )