Bizarre happenings are not rare at the Funny Farm. Frankly, y’all barely get a glimpse into the craziness that is my life. But Saturday’s funny business bled into Sunday which carried over to today so there has not been time for it to be overshadowed.
What am I talking about?
A hostage situation.
Saturday afternoon, I was making my way back up to the house from the back pasture when I passed my truck and heard a noise. I leaned in and heard it again. Meowing. So I circled the vehicle looking for the source of the pathetic sound. I even opened the doors…cause Ian would definitely think the cab of the truck was a good spot for a kitten.
After I searched around, above and inside, I came to the conclusion that the kitten cries must be coming from under. So I laid down on the gravel driveway and discovered two kittens squatting in my spare tire.
It was all cuteness and fuzzy feelings until I needed to go into town… and they wouldn’t leave…and we couldn’t catch them. Itty-bitty fur balls took my truck hostage. So, being the hard-core-ranchin-woman I am, I did the only thing I could.
I drove the conversion van.
By Sunday night, we finally got the babies settled in the garage and resumed control of the vehicle. But then it turned cold. Where do the two dogs, Missy and Luna, sleep when it’s cold? The garage. Where does the biggest black cat you have ever seen sleep when it’s cold?
And Mr. Spock does not like the new kids on the block. He is not being logical- he wants to eat them.
I know what you’re thinking, Where are the kittens now?
In my bathroom. But I am not keeping them! I mean it!
By the way, we named them Mac and Cheese.
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