So what happened, oh great Food Supplier?

Three little kittens

The remaining (and youngest) population of the Redneck Kitty Playground community

They are feral kittens, and as such they do not speak. - probably something to do with protection against being eaten.

Then the first 'words' came from the white-faced kitten with the pink nose - "Meew!"

Seemingly within minutes (actually days) 'Meew', which of course translates to 'pet me', brings a kitten who loves to be petted and have warm air blown around her neck "Foofoofoofoo," I said while doing that, and from that came her name Foofie. She spoke, so was no longer feral and must be named.

Next to speak was FoofieTwo, black nose framed in white. Still tentative, you see in today's photo she did stay and listen to the story of The Dark Night while Foofie sniffed my bandages and scars.

And here we come to What happened on The Dark Night, Hallowe'en 2012.

The story actually starts back a couple of days earlier, when I was trying to lure FoofieTwo into a closer relationship by leaving our back door open. (BAD PAUL! STUPID CONTRAPTIONEER!)

Little did I know that FoofieTheBold had secreted himself inside the house, and scared (and having never spoken) hid himself quite successfully.

The next day, my wife said she heard mewing, apparently from inside the house. We looked, and I opened the front door then the back looking for a kitten, but could find none. Later that evening she said she smelled a faint smell of cat urine in the house that morning on her way to work, but of course I scoffed at that (see classic gender roles on my 10/26 Blip). I wonder why I fall into that 'classic gender roles' thing and scoff at my wife? Maybe to give me an opportunity to ask for forgiveness and draw even closer to her? But then, I digress.

So Hallowe'en morning passes without event. I put food out in the cat dish and am only a little surprised that there is only one of Foofie's siblings eating. Foofie and the other kitten are off somewhere, I say to myself before leaving on my trek of the day.

Neither of us is able to return to home until we arrive together late in the evening and open the door to be hit with the realization that the smell in the house that was only detectable by a sensitive female nose the day before is now strong enough to assault even the most manly of noses!

And there, on our right in our dimly-lit living room, is a movement of a shadow. A shadow which on provision of greater light shows to be that of a very hungry and terrified kitten - FoofieTheBold!

My wife settles quickly into doing what she does well, earning the kitten's trust. Of course I go a different route and go to the back door to find the other two kittens waiting there puzzled, and I pick up Foofie, petting her and carrying her into where Annie is working on winning the hungry kitten. I think the cat will see his sibling (being carried by the scary big Food Supplier), and just follow them outside. What was I thinking?!?!?!

At my wife's urging, I leave the room and release Foofie back into the Playground. Unfortunately, I stayed blocking the door to the outside, so that when a panicked FoofieTheBold came roaring around the corner to make his escape, he was met with the formidable carcass of the scary big Food Supplier!

So, back he went into the recesses of the the scary big Food Suppliers' domain.

This time, he was hiding under the bed of our master bedroom, so I said, "Close the door after me, I'm getting him", and I came in.

Well, 'panicked' built on 'terrified' and was multiplied by 'trapped' to equal and exceed terror-stricken, and by the time I got my hands on him, he had nothing but 'escape at all costs', and though I grabbed him in the traditional scruff-of-the-neck cat-mommy pick-up, he was nothing but into biting and clawing his way out of this kitten-hell.

But I had him and with both hands kept his pointy parts away from doing me any more damage, with the God-given urgency that I needed to let go before I did permanent damage to him.

So through the house I ran, flung open the back door and dropped him as gently as I could on the back porch, expecting him to land on his feet.

But he layed there on his side, curled up and twitching, a wild-eyed look of terror on his furry face as I prayed.

My beloved and I were both sure that I had damaged him, and through my mind came rushing thoughts of "How can I 'put him out of his misery' if I have to?"

And more praying!

And I shouted at him, and he got up and scampered off as fast as he ever could!

And we went back inside to clean and repair my wounds. And my dear Annie, after looking after me, to clean and repair our house.

And after a while, I felt a need to go back out and see the kittens and renew my love for them, and there was FoofieTheBold hungrily wolfing down the food he had missed. A bit more wary of the scary big Food Suppliers now, but hopefully that will pass.

And everything is once more right in our little world.

~:-)