We are following the advice of all the weather forecasters which is find a cool space and stay there. Some are heading up higher in the mountains to Mt Mitchell but today's cool spot is here at home where I am navigating several million loads of laundry...excuse the hyperbole. Maybe it is just thousands of loads of laundry. Also in my spare time I am scratching at my mosquito bites. Usually, I don't get bit often but I must be more sugary sweet than in years past. The heat is affecting the little troupe of ferals. They are looking for someplace cool and alternate from under the porch to the porch to under the front porch. I fed them this morning and Mr Meany took another swipe at me as I fixed the food. This time I shoved him back a little. He seems to be getting more aggressive which concerns me some. Mama Cat took him on in a minor scuff after his aggressive behavior toward me and it's not exactly like she is on my side, cause she has that mournful, pitiful, hungry face that greets us most mornings but when I come out to put their bowls in the back, she hisses. Oh the love of passive aggressive cats. Punky hisses too but only after the most pitiful and mournful cry. Strawyer, well, he keeps his meows short and sweet. Punky has regained her girlish figure which means she is very attractive to the males out back. One of them attempted a salacious rendezvous when she wasn't in the mood and pretty much made it a vain attempt as she wouldn't, as they say in the cat world, present. Punky looked up at me with eyes that spoke a general dissatisfaction with the attention when clearly all she wanted to do was take a nap and I told her every woman in the world has made that face at one time or another whether she be cat, dog, horse or human. I think the sadness that overtakes their eyes in the course of growing up makes me sad. You can tell when the spirit of a rambunctious kitten as been engulfed with the complexities of ♬ ah, ah, ah, ah...stayin' alive, stayin' alive.♪ The recent sighting of Camo yesterday confirmed she is still hanging in there. She lives up on the mountain, over by the church now, but drops in for food every now and again. A few minutes ago Punky sat on the porch with her back to me...she looks so much like Riley when I see her from the back. Yesterday, I had a brief thought concerning Riley that maybe someone over in the next holler past the ravine might have trapped her and might be giving her the good life. The chances of that are very slim, though. But until I know differently, there is that glimmer of hope.
With the heat the little ferals are interested in the garage. While it might feel cool in the mornings and evenings, it is hot as blue blazes in the middle of the day. Both Punky and Strawyer, together or alone, will migrate back to the corner where Riley migrated all those months ago. That corner is where Riley stayed for the first week in the garage only coming out for meals and treats and sometimes to let me pet and rub her head. Roy said maybe they smell her scent but from what I have read, after a series of days, cats will forget that familiar scent and it becomes a part of the unknown. The other draw besides the garage, is the front flowerbed. With it being newly mulched, there is fun galore, once again a good stripper name, as they chase each other, hunt and then potty in that expansive flowerbed. Play got so exuberant yesterday morning, that they knocked down one of the little chairs that holds flowers. Being too tired last night I waited till this morning to right the chair and do a little watering before the heat of the day. It makes the heat that much more bearable when there are cool mornings and not as hot evenings.
With work starting again on the back porch the ferals have sought shelter in other places. It looks like Strawyer is expanding his world and goes out a little farther and I wouldn't be surprised if he finds a territory to call his own. He is coming into his male-dom, so to speak. He has started to see that he can move Mama Cat from her bowl and just a few weeks ago she would have hissed and spat at him. He comes over, nudges her with his head as he eats and she moves to find the next bowl. Strawyer looks like he is biding his time in overtaking Mr Meany. He is big like his father, Dead Beat Dad but Strawyer has the sweetest personality. He is the only cat out of this bunch who has never hissed at me. He lets me get closer to him but never pet him. His little, short meow warms my heart. Punky whines and then hisses and whines some more. She has just about outgrown playing laser light on the porch and the timing is perfect with screens coming next. At dusk she is sitting out there waiting for that little red light. She doesn't chase it as much now but yet she is still mesmerized. I did think for a little bit last week that maybe her kittens were still alive...but I don't think they made it but wouldn't be surprised if I saw a little one. I do believe if given the chance Mr Meany would kill them. I think he got to Riley's kittens.
Camo made a brief appearance yesterday. She also worked over Mr Meany, so she has come up a few more notches. He was getting very aggressive toward her after being worked over and since it was so convenient to spray him with the water hose because I just happened to be watering flowers, I did. Cool his jets so to speak.
So, this is the feral/stray catch up.
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