This past weekend the outside 'hardcore' ferals were more in evidence
than they have been for a while. The hubman was working on some stuff in the garage Sat. aft., and Wee Wilhelmina was hanging around (she's awfully free with advice for someone without an opposing thumb).
When I freshened up the feeding station fare just after dark, I was expecting to catch at least a glimpse of WW...instead, I saw that elusive fella Darrell the Feral bound off into the night, as WW's hissing
head emerged briefly from under the horse trailer. It would seem that 'ladies first' is the law of the land hereabouts.
I had wondered if D the F was still in the vicinity-at least on occasion-as the food being consumed a la station de kibble has been considerable, and it is a certainty that WW is not 'eating for 6' this fall
. The formerly romantically linked couple must be coexisting to some degree; I was hoping that some sort of platonic relationship would endure...guess I'll have to keep checking the kitty tabloids!
On Sunday, as I was catching up on horsechores, my aforementioned hubby busied himself constructing an insulated maison du chat to tuck into a sheltered corner by the horse trailer. WW and Darrell have a few pied a terre/nests in the area, but this convenient bungalow located in a pleasant district will at least provide them with another option. There is no jacuzzi, alas, but if they are willing to compromise...
Over the years, I've calculated that I do 80% of the critter care--and el huberino gets to see 99% of the incredibly amusing things that the critters do (I guess my eyes are focused too much on the ground
, where so much of my glamourous work is done: "Manure-ser-cise Forever!").
To wit: when he was working away on the 'cathouse!?' by the open garage door, hubby was entertained by WW's airs [sorta] above the ground. There is a hayshed attached to one side of the garage, and a lattice shade that kind of bridges or joins the hayshed and a section of fencing; WW was apparently zipping up the shade posts
to the roof of the garage for a quick glower at the carpenter below, and then zipping back down.
So you see, the Kamikaze Kittens come by their wrestling/circus ambitions honestly-a few sequins, et voila!