Friday, January 25, 2013
The Great Escape and the Wicked Witch
Since the kittens are eating raw to help them fatten up, I have to bring it downstairs to them from the kitchen. Last night I went down to the kitten room with the plate of raw food and a stack of clean dishes - since I am still trying to get them to eat canned. The kittens tend to sit on the edge of the futon waiting for me to open the door, but I have been able to get in with out too much of an issue - until last night.
This time all of them decided they were making a break for it, and kitten after kitten issued as if someone had given a "CHARGE" command. I tried shutting the door only to catch a kitten in the midsection (I was hoping he would back up so I didn't shut it with any strength, just enough to hold him there) I put the dishes down - afraid to leave the raw food unattended for fear it would attract a member of The Crew. I leaned down and grabbed the kitten stuck in the door and attempted to get him back in the room but by doing so several others saw their chance to escape. Frustrated and missing the requisite 4 hands to do this job properly, I ended up gently tossing kittens and being completely overwhelmed (think "the running of the brides") till I was able to shut the door.
I turned around to find Owen half way across the room all proud of his accomplishment. I looked around and didn't see anyone else. I scooped up Owen and offered him a tour of the house that he fought so hard to see.
Since I had called to my husband for help (and he couldn't help as he was in the middle of cooking on the stove top) I took Owen upstairs to tell him that I thought I had it under control (who knows, maybe another kitten had found a hiding spot??) Owen was so fascinated and happy and proud. He looked around totally enjoying his sight seeing - that is until I got near my husband who was stir-frying. Owen took one look at the stove and heard one sizzle and he completely freaks out.
I tried to calm him down, but he was trying so hard to get away from the situation that it was getting a little dangerous. I was probably five to ten feet away from the stove, so I wasn't afraid of him getting into anything harmful, but scrambling and falling out of my arms and then running into a member of the crew.. (well OK dangerous is probably too strong of a word to use). So I backed slowly away, turned away, all the while talking softly to him, telling him the stove was of no danger to him, but how I could understand how he might be frightened with all this talk of me trying to fatten him up and them bringing him to a stove...