This morning, I removed Fiona’s food bowl from the upper ramp and packed it away. It was made specially for her from a talented artist friend of mine when she learned that Fiona had come out on top of a pit bull attack. It is pink and yellow and proclaims “Warrior Princess.” Her pawprints are on our bulletin board and her memory remains strong in our hearts. She was an amazing calico girl whose life was cut way to short for our liking- but the reality is, most cat owners feel that way about the beloved cats who have passed on. They never live as long as we want them to or need them to.

Darcie will be spayed on Monday. The other kittens are still to skittish for me to touch, although we are getting closer to first contact with two of them. I see three new black cats in our yard now. I don’t know where they came from and just pray they are neutered. All three are skinny as the dickens and they slink around the buildings hiding at any sound they hear. They look like adults but until I trap them, I won’t know for sure.