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Monday, 2. September 2002

The Munchkins


two kitties and a kitty nose
So, I wedged myself back in the corner, and peeked over the top of the urn, to see not only Lo! but also Behold! Two kitties and a kitty nose! A black one...
A coal black kitty
that I have in my mind, named "Sambo." The white one I think of as "Ivory." (As in Ivory Snow, the soap)
A pic of the little tiger
The third kitty was only first seen as a nose. But when he heard he commotion, he had to jump up and see what the deal was. Doesn't he look sweet? Don't be fooled.
El Tigre walks
As it turns out, he is both the boldest and bravest of the munchkins. While the other two cowered behind the urn, he came out to see what I was all about...
Tigre bows up
And he bowed up, hissed and spit like a lttle tiger when I tried to get a closeup pic. So, I named him "El Tigre, " the Tiger. That was about a week ago. Since then, they've grown a bit, and I've put some kitty chow out for them, which they seem to like, even though I still catch them nursing. I've even picked up Sambo and Ivory a few times, bribing them with chow, but the Tiger still stands off.
Two kitties eat, but El Tigre stands guard
Before too much longer, they're going to need homes. CG is deathly allergic to cats, so we can't keep them, unless we keep them as free-range, outdoor, capitalist entrepreneurial kinda cats.

Or, I could take them out to Opa's barn, where they could live a free life, but that's leaving them, to mix my authors, prey to "nature red in tooth and claw," to a life that has proven to be one of "continual fear and danger of violent death; and a "poor, nasty, brutish, and short" Hobbesian life. None of his barn cats has lived more than two or three years, that I know of. Too many coyotes in the area.

Anybody wanna free kitty?
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MamaKat


The crazy wild mama
So naturally he started bringing over his girlfriend, a feral Siamese mix, just as wacky, skittish, and mean a cat as you'd ever meet.
The Siamese mamacat
She's a cross-eyed cat.
another pic of the mama cat
She hisses at me and hides behind the urn when I try to talk to her. She'll not let me closer than about ten feet.
Of course, all this secure homesteading lead to one very likely outcome, but I was too purblind foolish to see it coming. One day, that cross-eyed Siamese got really pissed off at me when I tried to make friends with her. Then I heard some strange noises coming from behind the urn...
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The Guardian


There is an humongous urn that gives them a place to hide where no dogs or humans can get them.

a bigass urn
And on top of the urn is a bighorn sheep skull...
A ram skull
In the daytime it just looks normal...
a ram's head
But in the evening it starts to glow...
a ram's head
It's a magic skull, loaded with juju by a Nawlins' witchywoman, garan-dam-teed to keep intruders away, and any creature on the patio safe from harm.
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