I heard a cat crying outside a few days ago.  The cat was yelling, actually.  I went outside to see what was up, and as I rounded the corner to the heat pump side of the house, this orange ball of fur was in full cry — mouth wide open.  We saw each other at approximately the same time, and the little beast turned and dashed under the heat pump ductwork.

It looks about six weeks old, and I’m sure Mama has said, “You’re on your own kid, deal with it!”

The heat pump is right outside the parlor.  The parlor is where my desk is.  It’s where I work on the computer.  The ductwork is right under my feet. Thus, this crying kitten is under my feet or to my left, depending upon where it’s at when it’s “complaining” about life leaving it to fend for itself.

Did I mention it’s really cute?  I’ve seen it twice today, and while it’s been about six to ten feet away from me, it hasn’t run from me.  It’s watched me as I’ve watched it.  Hubby will be angry to hear this (since he sometimes reads the blog, he may see this), but I’ve been slipping it a handful of cat food every now and then.  This afternoon, I confirmed the kitten has been eating it (as opposed to a big cat).

We’re getting ready to leave town for a while, but if it’s still here when we get back, I’m going to try to befriend it and will probably get it spayed or neutered, then I’ll have to release it again, because even I agree four cats in the house is really all we can handle (there just isn’t room on the bed for more).  I don’t mind having cats loose in the neighborhood, but none of us need them reproducing at the rate they can reproduce at.

Note: Busted.  I was sitting on the steps trying to entice the kitten out (with no luck) when hubby came out and saw the food sitting there. (He probably read this on the screen before coming out.  I guess I’m not trying to hide my actions too much.)

Maybe it’s more of a peaches and cream coloring?  I can’t tell at this point.