rainy days and thursdays

I'd like to tell you, lovely readers, that we have a happy ending for you.  I really hope we do.  I'd like to say, indeed, that we're still far from finding any ending at all for our little kitten saga.  And maybe that's so.

For don't they say that some of the best stories are told in trilogies?  I'd like to think we might only have closed the cover on the first volume of our feline narrative; that yet more adventures await.  Maybe this is time for us to pause and reflect on the story so far;  for us to lean back in our seats, stare out the window, warm mug of tea in hand, and ponder the fates of our heroes and heroines.

Alas, I look out the window and all I see is rain.

It's a miserable day, today. That's for sure.
A touch of The Carpenters might just be called for because who could say it better?

This final part of book one (please, let's name it so, for now, at least) has not been an easy one; nor will it be quick in the telling.  None the less, we'll see how far we progress today, knowing there will at least be another chapter or two for you, dear reader, before the close.  Are you sitting comfortably?  With handkerchief at the ready?  Then I'll begin...

You'll recall that the previous chapter saw our family hotfoot it across the road - most likely to escape the prying eyes and video camera of Yours Truly, the villain of the piece.

What could we do after that? We ummed and we ahed and we thought a bit and then a bit more, and that's about where we left you last time, I suppose.

Ultimately we came to the conclusion that there was very little we could do.  So, we left them to themselves (save for continuing to feed mum), hoping that the neighbours wouldn't notice; that they'd have everything they needed and be safe.  After all, Agatha had chosen the spot.  Nature knows best, and all that.

Except, nature probably didn't bargain on a deep crevasse opening up by an innocent-looking shrub in a garden otherwise like any other.

It was yesterday afternoon, and I was preparing a late lunch when I heard raised voices and fuss across the road.  It was the type of fuss that could only mean one thing: the neighbours had discovered the kittens, or more accurately, as it turned out, they had discovered two of them. The location of their discovery, however, was disconcerting to say the least.  Fred and Ginger had apparently fallen down to the bottom of a newly-erected wall's foundations (foundations scheduled for filling in quite soon).  They were sandwiched in a gap about 5 centimetres wide and 70 deep with bottles and bits of rubble wedged in at varying depths periodically along its length.  Oh, and did I mention a huge big prickly shrub blocking access to the exact spot at which the kittens were cowering?

(taken after removal of said shrub)

Deep. Breath.

ActionAllStations.

Withtheshrubandlotsofrubbleinthewayitwascleartheywouldn'tbereachablebyhandevenifthegapwasshallowerthanitappeared(turnsoutitwasn't).SotheneighbourssetabouthackingdowntheirshrubwhileItriedandtriedtoassemblesomekindof-anykindof-friendlylookingrescuebasketorscooporwhatevermightbepokedownable.

OK, I can't keep that up. But you've now had a taster of how about 6 hours of that afternoon felt. Ever had days like that? Where it's just one high-adrenaline thing after another after another after another?  I'm sure you all have.  And they suck, right?  I ate my late lunch at 10pm. D'oh.

See, now the story so far's worn me out already and I've barely even started. Ho hum. I'll be back, and I hope you will, too.  In the meantime, I'll leave you with some examples of my failed engineering attempts (excuse the shaky hand),

Keep safe, won't you all?  For today, at least.

I can't handle any more drama just yet.