It is certainly spring.
Last week we caught Lily and Squeakie (Lily's kitten from last year). Cornerstone got me in for Tuesday, then was able to up the spay appointment for Lily and castration for Squeak to Friday. But Wednesday, Lily presented us with what I believe are three bouncing baby kittens, one black, one black/grey (which normally turns to black) and one black and white.
Squeakie (named by Joan at Cornerstone) went in for "his" castration. By the quotation marks you can guess that Squeak turned out to be a she, and pregnant. She was spayed, however, and we'll keep her a good seven days to recover (and for the foretold snow to melt) before taking her back.
Hey, Dawn and Nancy, here are your girls!:
Lily is shy, but quite sweet. She has a half-a-tail, which always draws the attention of people who are looking for an adult cat. She's taking good care of the kittens.
I was supposed to go do "family things" today, but I had some sort of hideous stomach bug that flattened me on Friday, and I am still feeling out of sorts, so I spent more time with the cats in the barn than normal.
I cleaned up after the bear today, and brought the garbage and birdseed in the lower barn. I added another latch to the cat facility lower door (not that it would stop a bear, but perhaps it would be less of an invitation). After finished up upstairs, I stopped to take some photos of Lily, Squeakie, and the kittens, and stepped out of the barn into the floodlight with a bottle of Clorox in my hand, which I planned to spray the cat-litter-garbage-cans (which were too heavy for me to move).
And Mr. Bear was standing right across the road in front of Mark's car.
I let out a yell and the bear sent gravel flying, ran to the gorge, and proceeded to crash up along the gorge behind our house. I continued to yell rather insane things ("You'd better be running!!!!" and other stupid calls of false bravado) to scare him as much as possible.
The porch light and barn floodlight had been on, and it was only 9:30 pm, so obviously normal people activity doesn't bother him/her. But an actual person sends him flying, which is VERY good to know.
Nick was still out, and after I was finally brave enough to leave the barn, spray the garbage can and the left over birdseed that had been spilled in the grass, and scoot into the house, I went out to call him. He was up on that porch in short order, fluffed right up.
I don't think Nick thinks much of bears, either.