In the dog house...again

Throughout the winter, Mama had been getting bigger and hungrier.  The poor girl was waddling into my yard several times a day looking for food.  Just when I thought she was nearly ready to explode, she stopped showing up.

A few days later, she reappeared.  Her svelte figure was back and she was ravenous.  For a few weeks, she came to breakfast, dinner and supper alone.

Then early one morning, before feeding time, I was standing at the end of the screen porch.  To my surprise, there were furry little things scurrying around on the little porch.  Then I saw Mama and knew she and her new kittens had moved in.  Because the little porch was also the cafeteria of Wolf and expectant mother, Blue, I had to find a way to prevent turf wars and squabbles.  Since Mama was so irascible, and Wolf was so creeped out by the kittens, it wasn't hard to convince Wolf and Blue to avoid the matriarch and her new brood.  I did this by propping the screen door open and coaxing them up onto the big porch to dine.  This was a harbinger of things to come.  Before long, both porches would be commandeered by felines.

Although the cast of kittens on the little porch had changed, Mama's disposition hadn't.  She would sit imperiously and stare at the magic door.
Translation: "Hey, Stupid!  We're getting hungry out here.  Bring us food.  Now!" 
But to bring her food, I had to step out onto her turf, the place formerly known as my porch.  When I obeyed her summons, she'd still reward me with growls and hisses.  And now there was a new spin to the game.  The kittens could dive behind the doghouse when the door opened.  So when I stepped out, big eyed, snarling, hissing, little faces peered out at me.

With the new brood of children, Mama had reverted to her old philosophy: cars are good and people are bad.  A short time later, two kittens were lost because she had taught them to hide under cars hoods.  When I saw Mama standing in the driveway howling after a departing vehicle, I knew what had happened.  But the damage was done.  To avoid any more disasters, a new policy was put in place.  No car could leave the driveway until under the hood had been checked and the horn vigorously blown to scare off any stowaways.  By taking these preventative measures, another kitten was rescued in time.

Stubbornness was a trait Mama and I seemed to share.  I was very attached to my old pals, Wolf and Blue.  Mama and the new brood seemed to be pushing them out.  I resented this and referred to the newcomers as Mama's little minions.  Soon the exquisite little pair of calicos were named Minion and Vixen.  And though I wasn't particularly friendly, it didn't matter a bit to the curious pair.  They were fascinated by two legged feeding machine and began to stalk me.  I'd be doing yard work and notice the nosy little kittens creeping up to spy on me.

Late at night, I'd go out to my smoking room, the screened porch.  The little pair of thugs would hear me come out and start peering in the screens at me.  Soon peering wasn't enough.  They began poking their little paws into a gap between the screen door and the porch floor.  In self defense against the cute marauders, I found a weapon and began poking back.  These battles became a nightly occurrence.  As the little terrors won me over, Minion and Vixen became Minnie and Vick.

Minnie's colors were brighter and each side of her face had different colors and markings.  This really suited her split personality.  Vick's colors were muted and she had an angelic face.  At first, Miss Angel Face was the more brazen of the pair.  These kittens were different than the last brood.  They stayed around more and seemed to be "self taming".   

Mama and I began to have battles.  She was bringing live prey up on to the porch.  When I caught her doing this, I did my best to discourage it.  But Mama was stubborn and I couldn't watch all the time.  Often now, I'd step out the door to be greeted by growling hissing cats as a mouse head leered up at me.  The hissing and growling I could take.  But not the mouse heads and assorted entrails.  Some mornings I would step out into a twisted biology class named Entrails 101.  Mama's feelings were hurt when I'd grab a shovel and callously dispose of her treasures.  But the puzzled expression on her face as the irate swearing human stomped past with the shovel was priceless.  She seemed to be saying, "What's her problem?  Humans...go figure!"         

Early one morning, I happen to pass by a window and saw the trio, Mama, Minnie and Vick, coming down the driveway.  I stopped to watch.  The sun illuminated their long white legs.  The felines looked so delicate, elegant and beautiful, they resembled porcelain cats.  But as they got closer, I noticed something that shattered the ethereal image.  From angel- faced Vick's mouth dangled a limp chipmunk.  Even better, or worse, Mama looked so proud of her girls.