When we still had all the kittens, Tiny Cat started bringing them food she’d scavenged outside, presumably from the neighbors’ garbage. First there was a breaded piece of fish, another time it was a whole raw chicken breast. Once she showed up with an Egg McMuffin, plasticky-cheese-coated wrapper and all.

Then came the snakes. Very small snakes, as if she’d specifically chosen the most tender reptiles for her children.

Nobody was particularly interested in these offerings. Even the kittens, after curiously batting the corpse for a minute or two, would just sit there like, “Uhhhh. Nope.”

I figured that once the kittens were gone, TC would no longer feel the need to provide extra nourishment and her snake-hunting days would come to an end. Buuuuuuuut ….

No, now they’re just BIGGER snakes.


Also no longer dead.


Basically at least once every couple weeks there’s a snake in the sunroom, which is at least not technically inside the house but STILL. The smaller ones I could pick up and dispose of, but these larger still-moving ones require Husband Assistance. Which makes the whole thing pretty entertaining, because while JB would like me to tell you he’s like Samuel L. when it comes to snakes ….

He’s really more like Indiana Jones.

While I do not enjoy finding reptiles in places that should not contain reptiles, I have to admit I’m impressed by TC. She’s just trying to be a good mama, and if her efforts occasionally go wholly unappreciated — well, who among us can’t identify?




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