The Perfect Coverup

Uncle Charlie's feet barely touched the ground as he flew through the closing door nearly getting his tail pinched as I jumped back not knowing what was racing toward me. Each evening before dark sets in, I return to the barn for a head count and to close up the doors with Puff and kittens securely tucked in for the night.

Tonight, however, Uncle Charlie had his own ideas. There may come a point in time when our toms will insist on spending the night prowling, but 8 weeks is far too young. So when Uncle Charlie decided it prudent to escape the closing door, my curiosity allowed me to stand back and watch before scooping him up. Not wanting to create a late night rodeo chasing kittens hither and yon, I closed the door, causing Puff enough concern that she sat on the inside of the door crying for her wayward son.

Hopping onto the fence for a better view, I scanned the corrals searching for movement in the waning sunlight. Finally, I spotted the little bugger. He managed to flee to the far end of the outer corral--a spot clinging to the last ray of vanishing light where he circled, pawed, and sniffed, then apparently dissatisfied with the choice, he walked a few feet to the north, circled, pawed, and sniffed once again before plopping his bottom into the second freshly dug divot. How a kitten decides where to poo, choosing one spot over another and another, completely baffles me.

After sitting stoically erect over the impression for a few moments, he hopped up, turned around, admired his accomplishment, then scooted in a circular direction pulling dirt with each turn creating the perfect cover up for his tiny poo.

Once Uncle Charlie finished his business, he agreeably bounded toward the now closed door, answering his mother's concerned call. I cautiously opened the door hoping the other two kittens weren't waiting for a similar opportunity. Not a problem, thankfully. Puff escorted her bold little boy to the awaiting kennel where his brothers had already snuggled down in their favorite corners. Puff circled a few times before settling into her resting spot. Bold little Uncle Charlie waited until his mother sighed, then cuddled up close to her. When I looked back one more time before leaving, Puff had her arm firmly wrapped around Uncle Charlie's neck secure in the knowledge that at least for one more night all is well. And so it is.