This has nothing to do with comics or mermaids I know but I have to tell you I am catching feral kittens again. I have caught three out of four and the last one is eluding me. I feel like Sylvester and Wile E Coyote all rolled up in one – hatching plans that inevitably backfire – although I am stalking kittens not canaries or road runners. I must add that I also have no intention of eating the kittens or possess any instincts like Clem from the Buffy TV series. For those of you are unfamiliar with my exploits, I live on a farm and I look after 10 domestic cats and about ten plus feral cats. I am attempting to get the ferals desexed (or spayed as it is known in the States) but they are exceedingly street smart and refuse point blank to step into the cat cages. I have written about my adventures on my Tame Feral Cats blog. Of the kittens born to the two fertile feral females (all my domestic cats have been neutered – both male and female), I have rehomed some and kept some. We just can't afford to let the population get out of control. This is very stressful as I cannot afford to fall in love with them all as I invariably do, so unless I am going to keep them I do not name them.
The kittens you see in the pic are the now grown up ex-feral Squeaker Sisters – Sihri and Sasha – covered in earlier blog posts. They were handed to me in a box by a neighbour who had had them dumped on her two days before she was flying off to Alaska for six months. The other two are part of a litter of five – Samson and Savannah – born wild but now loving and cuddly and actively seeking contact with their human companions. Their siblings found wonderful homes.
The three I am socialising now (please come forth oh fourth one!) lived in a drain on our property. Progress is painstakingly slow but I had a breakthrough this morning when I stroked one while she was eating and she didn't hiss at me or run away. Check out the "Chronicles of the Xmas Kitty" journal entries if you want to read more.
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