Hello Fornicoons
What a day it has been. First I have a bunch of work appointments scattered throughout the day. Then, before I can even start on those I accidentally KICK Weezie Meep in the eyeball. And it’s just terrible and she’s miserable and I call the vet, crying, to tell them that I Kicked My Cat in the Face! and I think she needs to be seen this morning. So now it’s 8:30 a.m.
I weep to Lolly too and we decide not to wait to see our regular Best Vet Ever at 2 p.m. but take Meep to the vet now. So we do and after a bunch of driving back and forth we get her and her scratched cornea back with some eye drops, a shot of pain-killer in her bum, and new blue bib-slash-bonnet. (It really brings out the color of her EYE.)
Finally home again, and I am sitting with Meep on the sofa (with a pounding headache from my guilt-ridden weeping) trying to chill, but she is agitated. I think it’s the drugs. I pause the TiVO and listen. I think I hear cats. But the rest of them are sequestered away upstairs because I can’t right now deal with the hiss-fest that ensues after every trip to the vet. Meep hops up and kind of ambles around like she’s looking for something. I pause and listen again. And now I am sure that I hear cats fighting, and I get up to see what the neighborhood Poop Kitty is up to in our back yard. I go to the door, pull back the curtain and I see….
RACCOON SEX!
Holy cats! In the middle of the day? What a racket! Meep wants to see too, but mostly it is just freaking her out even more. The other kitties are in the bedroom and can’t see what’s happening, but I’m sure they can hear it. Lolly comes quickly and we spend the next 30 minutes taking pictures (and a little video) of this (un)usual springtime activity. Not because we are perving on the raccoon sex or anything, but because we’ve only ever seen one raccoon –at night, and skittish– in this neighborhood before, and these are huge! raccoons. I felt as surprised as if I had looked out and seen BEARS in the yard. For a while the fornicoons roll into the big grass thing and it’s quiet for a few minutes until they start up again and roll out the other side.
(stop watching us, Perverts!)
They quiet down a little, but show no signs of going anywhere. I creep out onto the porch, hoping I have time to flee back into the house when they turn to attack me, but I end up scaring them off. They gallop away, squeezing their fuzzy butts under the gate, and disappear into the neighbor’s yard.
Aftermath: The other three cats are still hiding in the bedroom this afternoon. There were weird and frightening sounds, and now there is a weird New Girl in the house with one glowy green eyeball (from the dye they used to check it), wearing a floppy thing, and smelling like a stranger. Oh the HISSING! Oh the FORNICOONS!