God is a funny funny being. Or at least God seems to think they are. Asking God for something is kind of like asking a Jinn for something, you have to be very specific otherwise you end up with a wealth of pennys that crush you to death. I’m blathering, I know, I’m just trying to process. Bare with me.

So last night Sean and I spray our hair purple and I put on some funky makeup (what were we? I dunno. I’m gonna go with ravers since the navy base here invented the glow sticks so popular with that crowd). We made sure the yard was nice, plugged our jack-o-lantern in and set the spooky music playing. Then we waited. Three shows on hauntings and half a cauldron of reese cups later and no one had shown. So I showered, changed into my jammies and wouldn’t you know it Kathy comes by. Not that I minded, I was hoping she’d bring Riley by. He looked very tired but he was still adorable in his little scarecrow costume.

Now before I go into this next bit I think some back story is in order. We have at least 30 cats in the neighborhood that are all part of a feral cat colony. Everyone in the complex feeds and looks out for them but sometimes they go missing or end up dead and a couple people in the area are known cat haters so we all worry about them. Lately I’ve been talking to some of my neighbors about starting up a trap-neutur-release program. That way the cats get to live out their normal lives but they won’t reproduce next year making the problem even worse. The neighbors seemed to think it was a good idea and said if I would get something started that they would help.

At around 7:30 I went outside to leave food for the strays. I’d been working on getting them used to me for a few days, sitting on the sidewalk while they ate, getting closer to the bowl everyday. I probably look pretty silly sitting out there barefoot at night in my jammies but I figure people will assume it’s part of my ‘crazy cat lady’ persona. I’m at the point that some of them will even let me pet them a little which is pretty impressive since they’re feral. I had been keeping my eye on a three month old black kitten for a couple weeks and after petting it for a moment I grabbed it and hauled ass towards the house. My plan was to put it in the bathroom until morning and then take it in to be neutured and put it back outside the next day. Unfortunately it decided to go insane a couple feet from the door and tore into my hands until I had to drop it.

I went inside and bandaged my hand and then went back out to wait. I think not a few of my friends and family would be shocked that I would sit in the dark in the dirt for a good two and a half hours since it’s pretty well known that I’m petrified of bugs. What can I say, when it comes to kids or animals I’m capable of anything. After a half hour the cats came back, including the little black one but I figured it would be a bad idea to try and grab it again the same night. So I just sat there and watched them for awhile. At some point I asked Sean to bring a can of gooshy food and he sat on the opposite side of the sidewalk and watched with me. Then something tiny came creeping out of the dark.

About a week ago as we were pulling out of the garage we noticed that among all the adult cats and the older kittens there was one very tiny kitten. It was obviously to little to eat cat food or even to be away from it’s mother but it was to fast to catch so I let it go even though it weighed on my mind all week. Everytime we saw the kitten it was away from it’s mother and there were no other small kittens with it so we figured that it’s mother had probably died or rejected it. Last night it came creeping around the corner, pathetically small and mewling pitifully and my heart nearly broke in half. It took over an hour 5for to get close to me and the food dish (the whole time I was tossing it cat food kernels) and when it did I grabbed it firmly and ran inside. At that point one leg was comepletely asleep and the rest of me was in a lot of pain because it’s hard to sit perfectly still for so long but I managed to make it inside without killing myself or any of the cats.

I put it in the bathroom and brought it food and water, made it a bed and a litter pan and sat petting it and talking to it. At first it was scared and would hiss when I picked it up but by this morning it was already crying for me and running to greet me. If it was a old enough to be spayed and live outside on it’s own I’d go ahead and have that done and put it out but they fact is it probably wouldn’t survive. And lets be honest, after I’ve had it two or three weeks and it’s old enough to neutur it will be attached to me and the other cats and I’ll be attached to it. Looks like we’re back to twelve.

Hold on mom, let me get you a paper bag and a valium. Suddenly I can’t get that Madonna song out of my head. The one with the chorus that goes:

Papa don’t preach, I’m in trouble deep
Papa don’t preach, I’ve been losing sleep
But I made up my mind, I’m keeping my baby

I know, I’m crazy, I freely admit it. My only excuse is that I care to much. I know I can’t save everyone but shouldn’t I still try? Today I’ll be calling the shelter, Pet Integrity (a cat rescue) and all the local vets to see if I can’t work out some kind of bulk deal to do the TNR program I want to start. I know I can’t take them all in, and I don’t want to but I can’t turn out a defenseless baby. Could you say no to this face?

Anyway, one thing is for sure. In the future I’ll be very careful what I ask for. When asking God to send me a baby I’ll specify that it should be human.

P.S. My tapestries arrived yesterday, can you believe it! I can’t wait to see them. Yay for me!