five thousand shades of blue
Wednesday, August 29, 2001
Last night was penance in the , because the walkways between the raised beds were overrun with this strange, thick grass which must be related to green onions in some way, since their brushing against my shins and forearms causes me to itch something fierce. I happened to notice a little dark patch moving amongst the grass I hadn't pulled up yet, and automatically I say, "Hey Tiger." (Tiger's a neighbourhood cat -- grey tabby boy -- that likes to keep us company when we're outside.) Upon closer inspection, I realized this one's way too small to be Tiger (probably an eight-week-old kitten), and this one's more of a leopard spotted tabby. I rustled the grass at my feet and the little one comes pouncing out, so I grabbed her and picked her up and gave her scritches. She sat contentedly in the crook of my elbow as I scratched behind the ears, and then I put her down.
The entire time I was out there weeding, picking strawberries and tomatos, Little One was out there, bounding through the plants and pouncing on the tall grass, playing in the enormous fennel stalks and skulking amongst the strawberry runners. She was adorable. After I finished, I upended a bowl of dry food (kibbles) onto the sidewalk, and lured her over to eat some. They were a bit soggy because they had accidentally caught a little water from the sprinkler. I sat on the grass and watched the pink on the western horizon intensify.
Finally it got too dark for human eyes to comfortably see (since the light fixture for the backyard is broken), so I had to go inside. I'm sure Little One was slightly disappointed that the ape who likes to play went away. I don't know if the kitten's from one of the litters from the cats down the street (honestly, I'm going to beat those people if they don't get their cats fixed), of if she belongs to one of the new families on the street. I'm seriously tempted to take her, have my vet friend check her out, and keep her inside.
is
this just not enough…?
