Thrills and Chills

A section of my backyard fence is down since the windstorms Sunday evening. This opens up whole new opportunities for my dog Llewellyn and for the four-year-old next door.

Caitlin East* is fascinated with my dog. She has two kittehs of her own (older by far than she is), but a Real Live Dog is something altogether different.

Always before, I've brought him out on his leash to the front yard so she and other neighborhood children can pet him and practice telling him to sit, sit!

But now the backyard fence is down. And when Caitlin* is in her backyard with her daddy, Llewellyn, off-leash, just has to run through and explore and be in-your-face sociable on the other side of the line. And Caitlin* just has to come through (past the fallen branches) and visit my dog on his own turf.

This makes him very, very happeeee! And like the collie mix he is, he runs round and round joyously, rambunctiously, heedlessly!! And last night he nearly barrelled into little Caitlin, who is about half his size.

Suddenly, being friends with The Puppy didn't seem like such a good idea any more. No, she didn't want to run back into her own yard. She wanted to squeal and tremble and cling to me, holding my hand and saying, "I'm scared of the puppy! I'm scared!"

"Why are you scared? He didn't mean to run into you. He's just being careless, and we have to teach him not to."

"I'm scared!"

"How come?"

"Because his mouth is open!!!"

Oh, yeah. When you've just turned four, all those goggie toofs can be pretty scary, even when the goggie is grinning like a silly idjit.

So we practiced throwing him the tennis ball, which intices him to run away from her-- not so intimidating. And getting her to laugh at his long red tongue as he sits there panting.

This evening, then, Caitlin* was in her backyard with her daddy. Away through the gap Llewellyn went, dragging his leash, hello, hello, helloooo!!!

"Eeee!! Eeee!!" went Caitlin*, and hid behind her daddy. I called my doggie, and the child squealed and ran away. Off goes my mutt after, but luckily for us all, not to chase her, rather to nose here, there, and everywhere around their yard. And off she went after him, picking up his leash, commanding him to sit. And had no problem at all when Llewellyn poked in when her dad was trying to tie her shoes.

She's still not so sure about those grinning doggie teeth. But she can't keep away, rambunctious mutt or not. So I have to wonder: How much of this is my dog scaring the kid next door, and how much is this her scaring herself?

(I shall keep a close eye on the situation.)

My Mystery Cat

Sometime when I'm feeling more creative I'll think of a caption for this photo of Gwenith. For now, it can speak for itself.

We Have Company

About two or three weeks ago, I returned home to find a neighbor from the other side of the street in my side yard, peering into my bushes. When I got out of my car, she approached and said, "Sorry about traipsing all over your yard. But our little gray kitten has gotten out and I saw her run through here."

Oh! no problem at all! She was on the search, her teenage son was on the search, and now I joined the search. In people's front borders we looked and along the back alley. The man on the corner, scraping his porch, agreed to keep an eye out. The lady on the other side of me, just pulling into her garage with her two small children, promised to keep watch. I came out with a little dish of kitten food, to see if the creature could be lured.

I saw nothing of the illusive little feline. Her owner spotted it a time or two, but it always ran away. Maybe, she figured, it hadn't bonded with the family yet-- it was only about five weeks old and they'd only had it a week.

We moved the hunt further down the alley, where we encountered another neighbor. She said, "Yes, I've seen a gray kitten like that around the neighborhood, but it can't be yours. It's been hanging around for a month."

"Really? It looks just like our new kitten!"

"I'm sure the one you saw out here is a stray. Have you checked everywhere in your house for yours?"

So the kitten-owning neighbor and her son went home to make sure. An hour or so later, she appeared at my door. "I was wrong. That wasn't my kitten I saw. My own gray kitten was curled up on the rug in the spare bedroom."

That's a relief, but what about this other tiny catkin? In the following days, I began to see it myself. Standing in the street when I got into my car in the morning. Stalking through the bushes across the alley. And carrying itself always with a massive self-assurance all out of proportion to its infinitesimal frame.

Other neighbors saw it, too. "Have you seen the little gray kitten?" they'd ask. "I set out some cat treats for it the other day."

This evening from next door other side it was, "That kitten was on my porch today. It touched noses through the storm door with one of my cats."

Two evenings ago, it favored me with a visitation, taking up position under the weeping cherry in my front border. I lay down in the grass about five feet away, and tried to get it to come to me. Wasn't interested, but wasn't afraid, either. Just crouched there, staring at me.

It is still so little! So . . .

So I fed it. Correction, I've been feeding it. With some canned kitten food my own year old kittens are too old for. Always in the same place, under the arbor vitae in the side yard. I think it's figured out that's a good place to look for food in the morning.

Me, I'm trying to figure out what's best for it, considering there's No Way I can afford to bring another kitten into the House of the Flying Furballs, let alone another feral one.

The three-year-old next door announced this evening that The Little Black (he thinks it's black) Cat had been in their yard again and his dad is allergic to cats and if they see it again they're going to catch it and take it Far Away Where It Really Lives or something of the sort-- what exactly, I couldn't tell, since yelling over the fence, I can't always hear or understand what the kid is saying.

Does this mean I need to do something right away, whether I really can or not?

Or maybe should I tell myself there are thousands, millions, of abandoned and stray kittehs out there, and if I can't keep this one healthy and happy, that's just how it goes?

Meanwhile, we have company.

News Flash!

Gwenith has climbed onto my lap three times running just now!

And even let me pet her (a little!)

I think I'm gonna faint.