So, I got the video camera out early last week with the intention of making movies of the bebbes. The bebbes, however, don’t do a whole lot other than sleep, and since we keep the room so dark and they sleep in the very back of the box, I wasn’t really able to get much footage of them, except for about five minutes of Kaylee (the raccoon) doing her damnedest to nurse. That movie – about five minutes long – will be up later this week, probably Friday. In the meantime, here’s a video of Momma Kara. When I got down on the floor in front of the box and pointed the video camera at the babies, she flopped down between me and them in the interest of getting herself a belly rub.
My favorite part is where she’s kneading the air as I talk to her. My second favorite is about halfway through, when she glances over her shoulder to check on the babies.
Here it is on YouTube:
Friday, shortly after noon, I was hanging out in the foster kitty room, petting Kara. The kittens were sleeping as usual, and Kara was nestled up against me purring like mad as I rubbed her belly. She’d just finished off half a can of kitten food and seemed about ready to take a nap.
She perked up suddenly, and ran over to the door. Sometimes Mister Boogers or Tommy starts sniffing around the bottom of the door, and Kara has to establish the fact that she will rip their faces off their bodies and hang them from the nearest cat tree if they even consider thinking about coming inside and looking at her babies, something she does by growling like a hellcat, hissing loudly, and sticking her paw under the door and waving it around wildly. Usually they’ve already run off like the scaredy-cats they are by the time she gets to the paw-waving step, but she’ll do it just for good measure.
I’ve rolled up a towel and pushed it against the outside of the bottom of the door on the hallway side, but somehow they’ve outsmarted this high-tech blocking technique and have figured out how to pull the towel away from the door for maximum sniffing action.
So when Kara ran over to the door, I figured Tommy or the Boog was out there, and there’d be some hissing and growling. I rolled onto my back and watched to see what would happen.
I was absolutely frozen in horror as the door began swinging open. I knew immediately that I hadn’t made sure the door had latched when I came in earlier, and Mister Boogers in his singleminded sniffing was pushing the door open. I knew there was no way this was going to end happily, and I was certain Mister Boogers would be dead in a matter of seconds, because you do not mess with a hormonal postpartum Momma.
My legs flew up into the air, giving me leverage as they came down to hop to my feet. As I got to my feet, I screamed “NOOOOOOOOO!”, knowing that Mister Boogers had not long to live. I ran at the door, arms outstretched, hoping to slam the door shut before the carnage could begin.
“Whuh – okay!” Fred said, and pulled the door closed.
Filled with Spring fever, he’d decided to leave work early and come home to surprise me. Instead, he gave me an adrenalin rush that lasted through most of the rest of the day.
And Mister Boogers lives to het again.
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.