Taming the Beasts

There is nothing so sweet as a little kitty. I loved the summer for the crop of new kitties that we got to enjoy.

All our cats lived outside and flourished on the mice and birds they would catch. Since we milked our own cows, they also got some milk each day as there was often milk that was more than a day old that we would give to them. We never drank old milk.

Not all our cats were tame. Many of them would hide in the bushes waiting for the food to be deposited and then once you stepped back in the house they would scamper out and enjoy the buffet along with the other cats. I remember watching this group of cats at the communal dinner table growling at each other as they ate as quickly as they could.

Whether the mother was tame or feral, we loved her children. Often the mother would change her den to another hidden location once we discovered them and we would have to hunt them down. Sometimes we wouldn't find them and the kitties would grow too big to be tamed.
This did not always stop us trying.

One fine summer day, Cam and I became determined to catch a couple of these large kitties. If we put food out they would come running to the pan. Hiding behind a door we jumped out and tried to grab one - they were too fast. We had to be smarter.

This is where all that cartoon training came in handy. Watching Wily Coyote try to catch roadrunner gave us some ideas. We were not going to be foiled by these little balls of fur.
We started with a blanket and bailing twine. By tying each corner to a central rope, which we threw over a tree limb, we had a ready trap. Our plan was to place some food in the center and hide behind the tree. I would signal to Cam who would pull on the rope. The corners of the blanket would rise and the kittens would be trapped in center.

We placed the bait and took our positions. The kittens rushed from behind the garage and ran right on to the blanket and began to eat the food. NOW! Cam pulled the rope. The kittens were trapped. I ran full of glee, donning leather gloves, to pick out one of these tiny tigers. Before I got there, they all had climbed up the blanket walls and ran jumped for freedom. Picture the coyote with that disappointed look.

Next we got a box, a stick and yet more twine. With the stick holding up the corner of the box and some food underneath, all we had to do is pull the twine that was tied to the stick once the kittens were eating the food under the box. We tried it and it worked. But the box was too light and they just escaped from under the box.

Ah, but this we could fix. We got a large rock and put it on the top of the box and started all over again. Food, kittens, pull the stick...wham they were trapped and we had them. I gave Cam the gloves and I took the rock of the top. All we had to do was open the top real careful and grab one of these little rascals. At this point the box sounded like I had the Tasmanian Devil inside.

Nervously I slowly opened the box top. With a sudden gush, it was as if a fountain of kittens were streaming up out of the box like an oil geyser. While I sat at the side with my hands on the box top, Cam was braced from over top ready to grab a kitten. They were so fast he had no time to react. One kitten shot out of the box and came into contact with Cam. He was mad.
The little bit right into Cam's chin. Came desperately groped at the kitten; this sudden turn of the tables shocked us. Cam tugged the kitten bit harder. The kitten had us and wasn't going to let us go. After a few moments more of desperate tugging, Cam finally just let go and with his head bent forward the kitten just dangled there like a possessed beard. Then it dropped and ran away to hide with the rest of his wild gang.

We gave up on trying to tame these beasts. These weren't kittens these were wild and ferocious beasts.