I was weed eating around an old out building in one of my yards a couple of weeks ago and was startled when I scared out three very small kittens from under it.......::::watching as they ran under the old car parked not far away......laying his weed eater aside and flattening himself to the ground to try to coax the kitties out......shaking his head:::  There was no way those wild things were gonna get within reach so I went back to my work.

When I finished and knocked on the door for my pay, I asked the Mister if he knew he had some wild strays living under the craft shop.  He said he did and extended an arm to show me a couple of long scratches.  He already had caught two of them and had them penned up on the screened porch.  He explained that he was gonna try to catch up the others then take them to the pound.  I grinned and told him good luck.

I went on down the road to my next yard but the incident set me to thinking about a summer six years ago when I tried to save some kitties but failed.......<sighing>...... because I didn't act fast enough.  They were feral kittens also.....four of them......thin and scraggly and worm ridden.....:::heading back to Scarlet to refuel his weed eater......spying the kitties hunkered together, soaking heat up from a manhole cover::::  They scattered into the underbrush when I got closer.

::::pausing to sip his coffee and put words together::::

It was a rough neighborhood.....three city lots with a condemned house that I kept for a corporation that owned it.  I didn't use a mower........but took it all down with a weed eater ‘cause it was the kinda place where empty bottles and bricks and trash and used syringes multiplied.  I knew the kitties would get no handouts or help there and so for the rest of that day mapped out a plan for rescue.

The plan was to trap them, have them wormed and spay/neutered and then release them somewhere a little safer.  <sighing>.....but it took time.  I found two places with barns that needed mousers and would put out extra food.  I found a clinic that would not charge me an arm and a leg for their services.  I arranged to borrow an extra live trap........but it all took time. I had all the arrangements made by the time I went to cut grass again.  

:::setting the live traps at a distance from each other and baiting with tuna......starting in on the grass cutting......hoping to find a couple of kitties captured when done.  Making his third pass around the area.......singing to the radio........pausing to look around as he catches a whiff of that familiar sweet sicken smell.......seeing nothing obvious and continuing on with his work.....watching his string taking down the high grass and then cutting into rotting flesh and grey fur::::.....bile rose in my throat and the sweet waters of the heart leaked from the edge of my safety glasses.

I pounded on a couple of doors to see if anyone knew if the rest of the kittens were still around.  ::::smelling the reek of alcohol as one man proudly explained that he and his buds had taken care of the problem of a feral population explosion by setting out poisoned food......jaw tightening as he controls the urge to smack the grin off that man’s face.......collecting his traps without a word::::

:::sighing:::.......I didn't move fast enough.

Joe:::::who knows you didn't ask for a sad song::::