Tag Archives: images of kittens

Kukla’s Story

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I, Kukla, testify that the tale you are about to hear, narrated by me and transcribed by my mom, is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me, tuna.

(But first, a few words from Judy.) After reading an account of Murdo Girl’s trip to my old stomping grounds in South Dakota narrated by one of her dogs, I harangued her to let her cat narrate a tale as well. Voicing some objections to this, being that her cat can be a contrary soul, she finally assented and her cat told an interesting story showing none of that contrary nature suggested by her mom, who is prone to exaggeration, I must say. Since then, she has been similarly haranguing me to allow one of my kittens to tell a tale. So, fresh from a nap, I went in and grabbed Kukla from the pile and let her narrate to me this true story of what happened the night of my film night. I will stay out of it except to warn you against inviting even writing friends over to see the film about Emily Dickinson entitled “A Quiet Passion.”  Much as I like her poetry, this film was a depressing YAWN!!! Kukla’s tale, I hope, has more energy. Okay, here it is, straight from the cat’s maw:

Kukla’s Story

As I was wrestling with another,
our two-footed human mother
came to take my brother outside
to the sala where her friends reside
to sit there, bored and subtly snoring
as they watched a film as boring
to humans as it was to cats.
Edgy and restless, I guess that’s
why he jumped down from her chair
and scooted himself out of there.

The next act of the status quo
occurred as they prepared to go.
She thought she’d put him back inside
the guest bedroom where we reside
and certainly this may be so.
We were all sleeping, so didn’t know.
But shortly after their departing
(with much stopping and restarting)
after she had shut the gate
and come inside to cogitate
on the film “A Quiet Passion,”
regretting it, as was her fashion,
there came a huge great caterwauling––
yowling, quieting, rising, falling––
in the front yard. Some creature bitten?
Could it be an escaped kitten?

We heard her open wide the door
and give a certain panicked roar
as was her wont—a silly ditty
comprised of “Kitty, kitty, kitty?”
And what she later then related,
as soon as her query abated,
a cat like us, but bigger, tore
out from the shadows and past the door.

It must have been our feline mother
for why would it have been another?
Who abandoned us here months ago
and went where errant mom cats go
once that they have vamanoosed
from the kittens they’ve produced.
She streaked across to disappear
into the shadows that were near,
two-legged mother most surprised
for she had always just surmised
our mother was the big white cat
who had appeared months before that
fine day when we climbed up her wall––
so small to climb a vine that tall.

But this cat I have heard her say––
the one that came just yesterday––
Looked exactly like we four
as she streaked quickly by the door.
And when two-legged mother started
to close the door, one more full-hearted
yowling pealed out from the left.
It was Ollie, lost and bereft.
Somehow he’d made his way outside
and chosen just to cower and hide
until four-footed mother appeared
to warn that other mother who’s reared
us all from little lumps of fur––
who nourishes and makes us purr.

Could it be that that first mother of all––
who nursed us all when we were small––
has been watching as we grew?
Watching all we say and do?
Being sure the one she chose
deals with all our needs and woes?

Two-footed mother will never know
that it is true that it is so.
We have two mothers watching us––
enjoying all our leaps and fuss.
And in the absence of a padre,
they have conspired to co-madre.

IMG_0387I, Ollie, testify as to the veracity of Kukla’s relation of this tale. It was a harrowing night out there in the wilds. I was too agitated to tell the tale myself.

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Writing is exhausting so I had a little nap as mom polished the tale, dotting all the i’s, closing all the parentheses, spellchecking the caterwauls.

Kitty Pileup

Thought I’d go in and say goodnight to the kittens in their suite.  As usual, they piled right on.  I was Skyping to forgottenman and said I hated to disturb them, but the mosquitos were dive-bombing.  He asked if I’d gotten photos and I said no and I couldn’t get out from under to go get my camera.  He then suggested my computer cam, but it actually isn’t that easy to get photos when you can’t see what you are shooting. An additional problem is preserving one’s modesty while shooting random photos of kittens draped all over your nightgowned body.  At any rate, here are the photos that made it past the censor: 

As usual, you can click on the first photo to enlarge all and view as a slideshow.

The Hardest Way: Which Way Challenge, Aug 11, 2017

 

(Click first photo to enlarge them all.)

The Kitten Way (Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way!)

Ollie is now eight times the weight he was when the kittens were left beside my garage two months ago and his sisters have increased in weight four times. They now reside in the guest bedroom which has a sliding glass door to the outside that I leave open.  I’ve built plywood walls that block their progress outside to a 20 foot long outside terrace devoted completely to them.  It is shaded by napa palms whose trunks are too slippery for them to climb to gain access to the wall that seals my house off from the street.  We bought a big bag of sand to put in the planter that runs along the wall so they now have inside and outside litter places. They sleep piled on top of each other on the newest and most comfortable bed in the house and also have access to a new very large outside doghouse with raised entry so the rain can’t get in. This will hopefully be their sleeping place once they’ve had their rabies shots and/or spaying and neutering.

Kukla and Roo, however, are not content with their roaming area.  A few days ago, I was in my bathroom feeding Annie, my 15 year old cat who has decided to become an inside cat.  She refuses to stir outside of my bathroom and has commandeered the large tub/shower area for her own, complete with cushy bed and litter tray.  She will deign to leave her sanctuary only for meals and affectionate head scratchings. At any rate, I was getting ready for a party, so I left the bathroom but was back and forth doing those sortings and puttings-away that seem to mainly get done when company is coming.  I was just passing the door to my  (Annie’s) bathroom when Kukla came streaking out of the door.  How in the world?  She was supposed to be in her own room or run with all doors closed and walls constructed!  She ran into my bedroom which had sliding glass doors, two of which were open to the back yard where the dread dogs were!

I slid the sliders closed, then glanced into the bathroom just in time to see Roo spread-eagled at the window, inside the bars, about to climb through the glass slats and the screen, which evidently they’d forced open in spite of the fact that it was screwed in place!  This window was immediately over Annie’s bed. She looked surprised and stunned–too discombobulated to hiss as she usually did in their presence.  I extracted Roo, pushed the screen shut and cranked the glass louvers completely shut.

R.I.P. Annie. (No. Not departed.  Just literally resting in peace, quietly purring, happy for her restored solitude.)

Resourceful kittens will find their own way.

 

For Cee’s Which Way Challenge. (Sorry, but WordPress won’t let me establish a link.)

 

Quartet (Quadrille)

 

Please click on any photo to enlarge all.


Quartet

They flicker like tiny sparks,
these rapid kittens
intense in attention,
movements reflecting
every neighboring small movement.
Suspicious of brief distractions.
Violent, then soft like the feather
they’ve destroyed, 
drifting to the window frame above,
forgotten by its intense stalkers
of a second before.

 

Happy 6th Anniversary & Quadrille #36

Kitten Afternoon

 

Kitten Afternoon

They tumble off the bed and land on padded feet,
light as feathers blown by wind, their movements sure and fleet.


They leap upon the pillows, sliding down the back
of the leather sofa, this little feline pack.

Off on single sorties, still they must collect
together in a pile to communally reflect

on the adventures of the day: the palm fronds they’ve combatted
and all the tiny spaces they have covertly catted.

They bravely face the secrets under the guest room bed,
approaching cowering crickets with fascinated dread.


They eye the inert bed cat with a careful glance,
then settle down around her, mirroring her stance.

Tumblers and explorers, their days are wildly varied––
sculptures to be batted at, business to be buried.


Laps to be climbed up on, computers to be checked.
Feathers to be batted at. Bird nests to be wrecked.

With their indulgent human approving all of it,
that nests are being shredded matters not a whit.


These kittens are her little bits of kinetic art,
infusing her still house with a spontaneous heart.


Those who say that kittens are a bother and a mess

could not begin to fathom, to comprehend or guess


how those subtle sounds—each skittering and scratching
heard from the next room is another mystery hatching.

Each tiny paw that walks across her unsuspecting chest
as she lies in bed is a most welcome guest,


messing up the covers of her unruffled day
with an invitation to leave her work and play.

Cee’s Black and White Challenge: Two by Two

A two-headed cat, pigs in a poke, marble nude lady wrestlers?  Better enlarge these or you’ll miss it all. Click on first photo, please, to enlarge photos to see details.

 

 

For Cee’s Couples, Twins and Twos Prompt