Kitten, Redux!

CC heard a yowling from the woods. Exploring, he found a fuzzy black kitten in a blackberry thicket. Alerting me, he tried to lure the reluctant howler out of the thicket. Obviously hungry, probably thirsty, the kitten was a picture of approach/avoidance. Two steps out, sit, then run back into the gopher hole he'd found shelter in. I retrieved the can of tuna we'd found mixed into the sawdust last year, and opened it. Approach started winning, but not by enough. CC went back to work. I broke out a passage for my flip-flopped feet through the brambles, and kept up my end of the mewing conversation. I saw that we could block the retreat to the groundhog hole, so CC came back. He on one side, me on the other, I lured and he snatched. Kitten was NOT happy. Good leather gloves on CC helped, but I had the hand-off, so I wrapped him tightly in my shirt to quiet him and gingerly backed out.

Macks, who had been confined, immediately stuck his nose into the baby's face and my finger got tangled with kitten's teeth. A bath, a trip to Jim's vet clinic for a checkup, and we started socializing him. I think he's socialized now: he's sitting on my shoulder and grooming my ears and hair! Booger is NOT happy that he's been displaced as the youngest. Rascal, as we've named him, has weathered septicemia from the bash on his chin and is arrogantly taking control of the house. Macks is his adoring buddy, Amelia, the queen of the house, studiously ignores him.

Jim, my BIL Vet, says that the chin-bash and lack of fleas says that Rascal was probably tossed out of a car. He's surprised the rest of the litter hasn't shown up, but they may have chosen several roads to leave them on. We're up to 8 cats now. Sigh.