Freakin Festival of Felines on Friel

Before I go where it is I am going, I must admit to saving two kittens. Oh, alright, it wasn't me but my wife. One was left on a porch in Maine and the other bounded out of the Maine woods, two years apart. One is black, the other white (ish). When Pinky (cause she was rather pink then) was young, she was scrawny, with sick eyes and ears. Life in the woods. Could've been owl meat.

When Pinky was young she liked to hide in the housplants. A rare moment of peace between the two.

So what's this I see through the tomatoes, fence, and vine? Is it that time again? I usually only see the survivors, 6 months old maybe. This one, this one is awfully young to be on its own.

Over the fence I go to see this little being. Scruffy for sure, one eye closed, giant ears. Its laying amongst the vines, hiding to its best ability. My watering in the garden seemed to chase it out from underneath the cold-frame -a rather perfect cat shelter. You see, I get lots of cats in the garden. It is my greatest pest. What is pestilent about cats? Mostly wet cat shit. But also cat spray and hair on the vegetable plants. I can smell the poop, but I cannot see it until its too late, on or in my shoe. Seriously, its worse than squirrels, insects, and tomato robbers combined.

We have a fierce crowd of cats in the neighborhood. Most are not owned, officially. Our own two cats have ragged dopelgangers out on the street. Cat fights are heard daily. Cats are lounging on car hoods like greasers. This one above was mewing like crazy, like it was looking for something, or some cat. I thought it may have been the kitten's mother. Just ahead of it was another, bigger gray cat.

Chicken bones, ham bones, fish bones, and other detritus are often left in front of my apartment (the unowned, you know) for the cats to eat. Cat food in cans and also dry food, sometimes tuna are left in front. People feed them like they might pigeons, but find them cuter, if not touchable. There is one neighbor, two houses down that has a slew of cats show up at his gate daily for their feast. The cat above is one of that crowd. The gray tabbies I call them. They follow him around when he walks his dog.

Oh, look who it is: the mewer, the bigger gray, and the kitten. Family reunited I suppose. They are lounging at my neighbors, inches from my side yard garden. I don't know if that kitten will make it, its rough out there.

The cats really like my garden. At different times there are different cats laying in the perfectly protected spots. Its like a halfway house for delinquents. Some months the garden belongs to white fright, other weeks ol' blackie no ears shows up (a real frankenstein), then there's splotches always hiding behind the New Dawn rose. The gray tabbies, a clan, a gang, they got class, but they're also on the dole.

Our cats, sometimes life is dull for them, but do they know how good they got it? So bourgeois.

The last three days I have been dealing with a cat puke fest. Its tough to figure out who's doing it, but I did yesterday. Three days of it is a bit much, especially for Zoe (black) who is known as puss, cause she always has one on. She's shedding like mad despite my brushing her, which they both love. Some of her puke has had a lot of hair in it. I suppose she wants me to put in the air conditioner. Which I have no plan to do so I hope she stops soon. Why do they always puke on the rug? Excuse me, I grew up with dogs and know little bits about cats. Oy.