Operation kitty drop was the scene at my doorsteps a couple of weeks ago. I was so proud of myself that morning, up and at'em beebopping out the door when I came to a
screeching halt, make that a
screaming halt. I immediately slammed it shut and was practically hyperventilating repeating aloud,
oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. I'm sad to report that I'm in no way embellishing the facts. They are what they are. I paced the floor for a moment trying to think up a plan of action. First call was to an R.N. in the neighborhood, but she was on hiatus in the States. Second call was to a dog loving, bird loving, unfortunately not cat loving individual who was of no help whatsoever. Finally I called the villa people to send someone to my rescue. There was a cat literally birthing her babes on my porch
with no signs of stopping anytime soon. I don't know why I thought she needed help. Oh, that's right, she didn't. I did. Anyway my rescue team showed up and carried one little kitten off (R.I.P.) and put the other one in a box on the porch. For my benefit, they hosed down the scene to rid it of the laboring evidence. You would never know that I had birthed four babies myself. My gosh, get a grip, woman. The story worsened when the momma cat got spooked and went off somewhere else to finish her business. By then, I had two newborn kittens to bottle feed for 48 hours before she decided to show her face, again. Thankfully, she did and took them away to join the others. Unfortunately, she
relocated them, yet again, to the safe haven of our back patio where they've been nurtured ever since. So, now the dilemma. I have three kittens three weeks old to find a home for in the very near future.
Wouldn't you love one?
Please Help!
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David and I found us a walled city in Carcassonne, France to hang out in. Castles and dungeons...what more could one want? Possibly swilling 
and miss. Some of the Frenchies are not so enamored with the American dream and would just as soon us "hit the road, Jack" if you know what I mean. Of course, I don't expect people to speak English and cater to us, but I'm pretty amazed at some of the tourist areas that don't. Oh, well. 
I'll get over it. In the meantime, I'll soak up all the hospitality that medieval Carcassonne has to offer before heading out to who knows where France. Until next time...
Kristi in her new French life ~ biking to class
