Kneadermeier's Gift

Yesterday morning we opened the door to find this lovely gift from our cat, Kneadermeier. It's about time, too. We have a real problem with gophers. I wouldn't mind finding more of these "gifts".

Usually I try to dig down to the main tunnel of these vermin and set a trap in both directions. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. When it doesn't work several times in a row, I start to feel dumb. I feel like they are outsmarting me and that's just not right!

Our next door neighbor is something of a workaholic. He takes great pride in his lawn, which has always looked better than ours. We have commiserated together on the bain of our yards, the blasted pocket gopher. We have also celebrated together when one of us has made a kill. Last year I discovered a product that doesn't kill, but repels. It is tiny clay granules saturated with castor oil. You spread it out on your lawn over a period of time, starting from the center. Apparently the little bastards, er, I mean creatures, can't stand the castor oil, and flee the jurisdiction. After your first initial application, you only need to put it around the perimeter of your lawn, and one application lasts up to three months!

After we applied this miracle product for the first time last year, we were excited to notice that it really does work. Of course we shared our good news with the neighbor. I'm not sure why he chose not to use it, whether he had spent all his money on his on-going boat project (another story), or on-going home improvement project (another story), or what, but I'm only slightly ashamed to admit I snickered quietly to myself when all "our" gophers started popping up all over his pristine lawn.

So basically it is time to run to the home improvement store to buy more gopher repellent and spread it around. Perhaps I'll be kind enough to sprinkle some product over Dean's lawn too, since he really is the best neighbor anyone could ask for. After all, he brought us Kneadermeier.

About nine or ten years ago, Dean was a truck driver. He delivered fresh California produce to the east coast. On a return trip he stopped at a location in PA to pick up a canoe for his son to paddle around in the recharging ponds behind our homes. Apparently some time during that stop, this curious kitty jumped into the back of the open trailer. She was inadvertantly locked in the back for the three day return trip.After returning home, the truck and trailer rig were backed into the drive and the trailer was opened to remove the canoe. Next thing we know, there's a black and white kitten no one had see before running after the little kids, mewing pitifully. She seemed very hungry. We didn't have any cats at the time and all I had was dog food. I gave her some and she scarfed it down and then drank her fill.

Since then Kneadermeier has become ours. She is mostly an outdoor cat, but does like to spend time indoors, when it suits her. She came by her name because she "kneads" a lot; on a blankie, on a sofa cushion, on your stomach... I'm not sure how many of her lives she has used up, but it's at least two. One from the previous story, and the following:

Like many cats, Kneadermeier would crawl into the engine compartment of vehicles for a nap. One day my husband left for work (I was already off myself). About two blocks from home there's a commotion and the sickening thudding sound of an animal under the car. Looking in the rearview mirror he saw Kneadermeier rolling out from behind and then streaking across the street to someone's house. He stopped and attempted to coax the cat from behind this person's fence. Nothing doing. So he quickly drove back home where our daughter was getting ready for school. He picked her up and drove back to the scene of the incident.

She attempted to coax the frightened kitty from behind the fence, but Kneadermeier wouldn't budge. No one was at the home so my daughter, being the alpha female that she is, did what came naturally to her. She proceeded to rip the grapestake fencing down with her bare hands until she could reach in and grab the cat. After checking to make sure Kneadermeier was okay (she just had a few scrapes) they brought her back home. My poor husband had to change his shirt because he had gotten all sweaty from the excitement. Remember too, we live in Bakersfield, CA and the temperatures in the summer are easily 85-90 degrees by 8 am. Not a good way to start a morning. By the way, if this was your fence you came home to and found it partially ripped down, our sincerest apologies. Not to mention the statute of limitations is past.

Here's a little nicer photo of Jamie Lee and her new twins, one day old here. I guess I'll have to band the tails today or tomorrow. I usually try to do that within three days of birth. That's what the books recommend. I also used to put their tags in at the same time, but I think I'll wait just a tad longer for that. I did it one day after Ewenice's twins were born, and now one of them has a floppy ear. I also decided not to band the ram lambs anymore. I try to sell them before they turn four months old. Again, according to literature I've read the banding of the "nut sack" can wait until up to four months of age. I'll let someone else worry about that if that's what they want. My last one actually sold as a replacement ram for a small flock (lucky lamb). And some ethnic buyers prefer ram lambs to wethers (a castrated ram).

Later!