Meg Tilley Anderson BLOG

      "We've gotta laugh. We swapped immortality for accessories."
      -- meg tilley anderson

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

What dogs bark at (not)

You never know what dogs will (not) bark at.

Sunday was a puttering house cleaning day. Took the trash to the Dixie Dumpster and cleaned off the tub construction mess on the front porch because there were several places you wouldn't be able to see a rather large snake.

We were in the middle of discussing how to get the cat pee smell out of the brick floor in the kitchen. We'd already pointed the finger at Underfoot, who was to be banned from the house; and was hollering at the screen door to come in out of the thunder.

I glanced out the window at the cat patio, shut up and froze. This handsome young fox had come for a Sunday supper of cat food.

Young Mamakitty sat 10 feet away on the chair with her kittens the whole time, watching me, not him. (Because I stole 2 of her kittens?)

The cat called Possum entered the scene and stalked the fox until she was satisfied he was busy. She ate her fill from the big bowl, then settled in on the other chair.

Fox was a little jumpy at the approaching thunder. Jumped away one time but continued until full. He exited as he had entered where the fence board is missing. I don't expect to see him again because it"s been a year since I've seen a fox in the cat yard.

All this time Bart, our inside dog, didn't say a thing. Because he was hiding from the thunder under my workbench?

Summer Kittens

Saturday I found out it is easier to get MamaKitty to accept an abandoned newborn if it looks like one in her current litter.

I had to interfere. I couldn't take the pitiful mewing sound in the bedroom patio.

At first I couldn't pick up the kitten. Literally, it's umbilical cord had wrapped around an English Ivy vine. After cutting the vines with scissors I freed it from the attached placenta before placing the tan kitten in the cage with MamaKitty and her very last litter.

Even though this one is about one third the size of her babies, she took it to her right away.

Turn the clock forward two hours.

I had to interfere. I couldn't take the pitiful mewing sound in the bedroom patio entrance. The cord had been severed but green flies buzzed all around. Time for a bath to remove the fly eggs.

Hydrogen peroxide on a washcloth wasn't enough. I had to comb through it's fur with my flea comb after adding soap to loosen the egg's glue.

Talk about Abundance! There must've been a tablespoon of eggs on this baby who easily fit in the palm of my hand; layers and layers of 'em. (Relatives featured in Primordial Soup?)

Dried it off and put it in with MamaKitty.

She looked at it in horror!

She looked at me "How dare you endanger my kittens!"

And then, so as to NOT endanger her kittens, I took out the first kitten to comb off it's fly eggs. So few, I could've counted them.

When I returned, MamaKitty had her 1 beige and 3 white kittens rounded up in the corner under the shelf with her body between them and the intruder.

I returned the newborn beige kitten into the pile and left the tiny grey baby where it was. I trust in the wisdom of MamaKitty. She's had lots more experience raising kittens. For all I know, these are her great great great great great great grands.

This morning, Monday, the two newbies were snuggled up together. They've been holding their own, getting in to nurse, even though the others are three and four times bigger.

All because of my flash of insight (with great relief) that although I'm not up to feeding newborns every two to four hours, maybe MamaKitty IS!

Monday, June 1, 2009

More barking dog

What is it about Sunday evening and copperheads?
If this isn't a different snake, I seriously exagerated the size last week.
This time I kept my eye on it (and took a picture) until Bond came from Sound Play down town.
The blasted shotgun wouldn't!
Couldn't find a hoe!
It got away again.
Today Pieface checked out the flower bed very carefully before he lay down for a nap on the nearby patio.  Smart dog.  Something that moves yet he WON'T chase it.