Mama(cat)sox

Mama cat (aka the ghost cat) was halfway to the driveway when I walked outside. She made a beeline for the fence and the hole where a picket has come off. Being reassured (you'd think she would know by now) that I meant her no harm, she walked down the fence, skirted Killer and Maggie's graves, walked in front of Mary--guardian of my yard, thanks to my friend Jimmy W--and up the driveway. I turned around; it is not uncommon for her or Papa cat to be over under Randy's truck, or to scamper off through the woods or kudzu from that side of the yard.

Mama was standing next to the truck, facing the kitten's grave, mewing. "Where are you baby? I know you are here. Come on out, please." I watched while she took a few steps forward, standing on top of the grave, staring down at the ground.

She turned, walked back down the driveway and across the yard, this time behind Mary, and over to the hole in the fence. Somewhere out there in the kudzu that entangles this hill and the other side of my fence, she has sequestered her remaining baby. After a long enough time a couple of day's absence will not matter, I will contact the local humane society to borrow a trap, take Mamacatsox in to be neutered through the feral cat program, and bring her back to release her. I am happy to feed her, and any other cat or critter who shows up here homeless and hungry. I just really don't want to bury another baby.