Nancy s summer diary july
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Cat Diary - Human Point Of View - July 2020 free porn video
This all started when I noticed a stray cat crossing my property a few times. Apparently, that is all it takes. Beware!
When I was in the Army, back in the early-to-middle 1980's, I was privilrgrd to know and serve under some sergeants who were Viet Nam veterans. One of them used to love to say, "Do you know what the difference between a fairy tale and a war story is? A fairy tale begins with, 'Once upon a time, ...' & a WAR STORY begins with, 'This is NO BULLSHIT, because I was THERE, and I saw this with my OWN fuckin' eyes!' After that, they're both pretty much the same."
Well, THIS is no bullshit, I was there, and I saw all of this with my own two lying eyes!
At first, I ignored the cat. She was pretty, mostly Siamese, obviously well-bred, and probably had an owner *somewhere*. I like cats, but didn't really want one right now, at this point in my life.
So, about a week ago (i.e. 1st week of July, 2020), I'm out getting the mail from the mailbox, and picking up some fallen branches from my trees to toss on the burn pile (for the coming fall), when I hear a kitten crying. I go look, and it's on the other side of the fence, underneath my neighbors shed ... my neighbor with the pitbulls ... not a good mix. Fortunately, the mother and her two kittens were in an area that was permanently inaccessible to the dogs ... so, not really my problem. I tried to tempt her out through the fence (or even just up to it) with a small container of dog food that I had laying around (long story, I do *not* own a dog)(or want one), but the Momma wasn't the least bit interested, even though she was hardly more than skin & bones. One of her kittens, which was also little more than a spine with an empty stomach underneath, was more receptive. She wouldn't come to the fence, but would eat the food if I tossed it through the fence to her. Momma was so scared of me (and the known world, including her own shadow) that she ignored the food, even though she was starving. I left the rest of the container by a cat-sized opening in the wire fence, hoping she'd eat it later.
I went back about an hour later, and neither mother nor kittens were there, but most of the container was empty, and the remainder had obvious marks of cat teeth and tongues. Mission accomplished! I thought that would be the end of it.
Day 1
To make this story considerably shorter, the next day, I saw Momma again, and found she was nesting in a trash pile just inside my back fence. That changed things considerably. My property, *MY* problem.
I started putting some food out for her, which she largely ignored until I left (or backed off considerably, like 20 feet to the *other* side of the brush pile. Her kitten had considerably less pride. At first, he wanted nothing to do with me either; but I used my shiny nickel-plated emergency whistle on a string as an improvised kitty toy, and eventually lured the kitten to me with it, while I sat otherwise motionless. Once he tasted some food, he decided to ignore my many & varied personal shortcomings, and we became best friends. Once Momma cat ssaw her kitten eating from my hand, and crawling all over me without any harm, she finally allowed me to hand feed her as well ... provided that I did so through the holes in my back fence, and I stayed otherwise completely motionless.
End of Day 1
Day 2
The next morning, I went out at first daylight; and, when I open my front door, there was Momma cat coming home from ... somewhere across the street ... and heading down my property line for the brush pile. I grabbed some caned chicken and went out to see how her & her 2 kittens were doing.
Long story, short: they were still weak, but otherwise fine.
I stopped back by several times that day to check on them, drop off some chicken & ham from the frig, and put out a large bowl of fresh water, which they seemed especially pleased with, as the weather had been dry for over a week, and most of the local puddles & such were all dried up. With a reliable water source, Momma decided she could settle in & take care of the k**s full-time, which agreed with my plans as well.
The last time I saw Stephanie, her white kitten, was just before noon. Stephanie looked almost identical to her mother, i.e. brown point Siamese. The other kitten, a black female (or so I thought) that looked NOTHING like the mother, was still around and, now that s/he was getting regular meals, was an unstoppable little ball of energy.
The mother, who I named Amy (from the French, amie, meaning "friend"), became increasingly friendly, and eventually allowed me to pet her a little; but she was not shy about letting me know that any trust was tiny, fragile, and revocable on a second's notice.
It rained, heavily, during the afternoon. I went out to check, and found Momma standing post - in the rain - but no sign of the kittens. I assumed she moved then back under my neighbors shed, the closest space liable to be warm & dry, and left it at that.
End of Day 2
Day 3
The rain yesterday flooded the backyard to a depth of 4-5 inches, and I was worried that Amy's den under the brush pile might have filed up with water. I need not have worried. She was fine ... but noticeably short one kitten, the white Siamese one. I checked several times throughtout the day, but only saw (and fed) Amy and her kitten, which I named "Katrina" because of her boundless energy, and terrible destructive power.
I became increasingly worried throughout the day, that whatever had gotten Stephanie might get Katrina next, and possibly Amy after that. The other side of the backyard fence is several hundreds of acres of mixed pasture, brush, and young-growth trees and scrub. I hear the calls of Great Horned owls frequently, and assume there are other raptors (and assorted other predators) out there as well. How Amy lasted this long is beyond comprehension, as she showed many signs of having been a house cat until perhaps a few months ago
When I was in the Army, back in the early-to-middle 1980's, I was privilrgrd to know and serve under some sergeants who were Viet Nam veterans. One of them used to love to say, "Do you know what the difference between a fairy tale and a war story is? A fairy tale begins with, 'Once upon a time, ...' & a WAR STORY begins with, 'This is NO BULLSHIT, because I was THERE, and I saw this with my OWN fuckin' eyes!' After that, they're both pretty much the same."
Well, THIS is no bullshit, I was there, and I saw all of this with my own two lying eyes!
At first, I ignored the cat. She was pretty, mostly Siamese, obviously well-bred, and probably had an owner *somewhere*. I like cats, but didn't really want one right now, at this point in my life.
So, about a week ago (i.e. 1st week of July, 2020), I'm out getting the mail from the mailbox, and picking up some fallen branches from my trees to toss on the burn pile (for the coming fall), when I hear a kitten crying. I go look, and it's on the other side of the fence, underneath my neighbors shed ... my neighbor with the pitbulls ... not a good mix. Fortunately, the mother and her two kittens were in an area that was permanently inaccessible to the dogs ... so, not really my problem. I tried to tempt her out through the fence (or even just up to it) with a small container of dog food that I had laying around (long story, I do *not* own a dog)(or want one), but the Momma wasn't the least bit interested, even though she was hardly more than skin & bones. One of her kittens, which was also little more than a spine with an empty stomach underneath, was more receptive. She wouldn't come to the fence, but would eat the food if I tossed it through the fence to her. Momma was so scared of me (and the known world, including her own shadow) that she ignored the food, even though she was starving. I left the rest of the container by a cat-sized opening in the wire fence, hoping she'd eat it later.
I went back about an hour later, and neither mother nor kittens were there, but most of the container was empty, and the remainder had obvious marks of cat teeth and tongues. Mission accomplished! I thought that would be the end of it.
Day 1
To make this story considerably shorter, the next day, I saw Momma again, and found she was nesting in a trash pile just inside my back fence. That changed things considerably. My property, *MY* problem.
I started putting some food out for her, which she largely ignored until I left (or backed off considerably, like 20 feet to the *other* side of the brush pile. Her kitten had considerably less pride. At first, he wanted nothing to do with me either; but I used my shiny nickel-plated emergency whistle on a string as an improvised kitty toy, and eventually lured the kitten to me with it, while I sat otherwise motionless. Once he tasted some food, he decided to ignore my many & varied personal shortcomings, and we became best friends. Once Momma cat ssaw her kitten eating from my hand, and crawling all over me without any harm, she finally allowed me to hand feed her as well ... provided that I did so through the holes in my back fence, and I stayed otherwise completely motionless.
End of Day 1
Day 2
The next morning, I went out at first daylight; and, when I open my front door, there was Momma cat coming home from ... somewhere across the street ... and heading down my property line for the brush pile. I grabbed some caned chicken and went out to see how her & her 2 kittens were doing.
Long story, short: they were still weak, but otherwise fine.
I stopped back by several times that day to check on them, drop off some chicken & ham from the frig, and put out a large bowl of fresh water, which they seemed especially pleased with, as the weather had been dry for over a week, and most of the local puddles & such were all dried up. With a reliable water source, Momma decided she could settle in & take care of the k**s full-time, which agreed with my plans as well.
The last time I saw Stephanie, her white kitten, was just before noon. Stephanie looked almost identical to her mother, i.e. brown point Siamese. The other kitten, a black female (or so I thought) that looked NOTHING like the mother, was still around and, now that s/he was getting regular meals, was an unstoppable little ball of energy.
The mother, who I named Amy (from the French, amie, meaning "friend"), became increasingly friendly, and eventually allowed me to pet her a little; but she was not shy about letting me know that any trust was tiny, fragile, and revocable on a second's notice.
It rained, heavily, during the afternoon. I went out to check, and found Momma standing post - in the rain - but no sign of the kittens. I assumed she moved then back under my neighbors shed, the closest space liable to be warm & dry, and left it at that.
End of Day 2
Day 3
The rain yesterday flooded the backyard to a depth of 4-5 inches, and I was worried that Amy's den under the brush pile might have filed up with water. I need not have worried. She was fine ... but noticeably short one kitten, the white Siamese one. I checked several times throughtout the day, but only saw (and fed) Amy and her kitten, which I named "Katrina" because of her boundless energy, and terrible destructive power.
I became increasingly worried throughout the day, that whatever had gotten Stephanie might get Katrina next, and possibly Amy after that. The other side of the backyard fence is several hundreds of acres of mixed pasture, brush, and young-growth trees and scrub. I hear the calls of Great Horned owls frequently, and assume there are other raptors (and assorted other predators) out there as well. How Amy lasted this long is beyond comprehension, as she showed many signs of having been a house cat until perhaps a few months ago
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