Sweltering; our heat wave has come back, with a vengeance!
So whatever happened with my feral friends, you may well ask? Well, I captured four of the five kittens and took them to the animal shelter. It's unlikely that they survived; found homes. They were both too old and possibly too young. Too old because they were unsocialized, and I really don't know how many weeks they were, but there's a minimum, and the shelter was already over capacity. Like I said, I didn't ask, just hoped. But what was I to do? I was lucky I had that time to deal with the problem as it was.
I knew that I'd never capture Momma again, but I tried. I took the owner of the trap's advice and put a tarp over it to disguise it and make it look like a secret tunnel. I checked once and saw that the trap was sprung but when I removed the tarp it was empty. She's a smart one, a survivor. Still I tried, putting out no food except that which was bait in the trap, and left it out overnight. In the morning the trap was sprung and I heard rustling inside as I approached. “I've either caught Momma or the last kitten,” I thought, but pulled off the tarp to reveal a opossum. Ugh, the thing stank.
I saw Momma again, just before I was to leave for Chicago. She sat just beyond the deck and looked at me through the railing. I could read no thought or emotion in her gaze but I had to wonder what she thought of me. She'd once trusted me, but then I'd tried to trap her and stole four of her babies. I relented and set food out, away from the trap. She wouldn't even eat that. It was as if she'd raised her middle claw and shook it at me.
My problem is solved though, in any case. Momma took her last kitten and split. Neither hide nor hair of them has been seen since I got back from my trip, lo these several weeks ago. They're someone else's problem now, I guess.
I had a perfectly marvelous time in Chicago with the kids, though whenever I was alone I found myself grieving for the kittens. I'll miss them, and Momma too. They were sooooo cute bouncing around the back yard, climbing trees and tumbling over one another. There's no doubt that they had to go. I'm not home enough to care for kittens, but they were a joy to observe through the back door window.
It's kind of like the Rainbow family that squatted here when I was over the road. I told them they could “crash” at my place for a month while I was out on the road, before my brother in law was to move in. Instead they moved in, furniture and all. With three young children and winter coming on they figured rightly that I wouldn't kick them out and Bart agreed, finding other arrangements. There was no question but that they had to go, come spring. I have to admit, though, that it was awfully nice having children and pets around the place again, especially when I first got home for my monthly shore leave, when they would greet me so sweetly.
As for my trip to Chicago to see my own, grown daughter and son in law, I had a great time. If I'd written a couple of weeks ago I would have told you many stories. Now, however, I'm out of time and the stories grow stale, don't seem so much worth the telling. What, we played scrabble with Shoshana's boss, went to movies, cooked out? We were supposed to go canoeing but Shosh had a cold. She works at the Shed Aquarium where thousands of school children rub their grimy hands on the glass and railings weekly and so is susceptible.
But I will tell you about one morning when I took a walk by myself to the big lake, while the kids were still abed. Just as I was cresting the little rise atop which the endless water came into view a swallow arced down and away in front of me so close that I could feel the wind of its passage. Looking around I saw the air crowded with hundreds of dancing dragonflies, and scores of swooping swallows, all in constant motion.
OK, I'm bragging now, but in a few months the Shedd is sending Shoshana to the Bahamas as part of a team to collect coral spawn. She's SCUBA certified now and will be part of a global effort to help save the coral reefs. They grow coral there at the Shedd. Indeed, the roof is lined with skylights letting them use natural light, which helps.
