In the midst of a long, harsh winter, Mama and her two surviving kittens (now about 7 months old), have spent much of their time in an old shed in my yard I've transformed into a veritable cathouse. I call it the Bumble Barn.
I'm very lucky the shed barn is wired for electricity. The cats can warm up in there in a little heated bed. They also have a heated water dish so their water won't freeze over.
The barn also houses several bales of hay, a kitty play tower, a half dozen catnip play toys, and, thanks to my man, Al, two cat doors for easy entry and exit.
Throughout the autumn and winter, Mama and the kittens (Little Buddy Bumbly and Little Billy Bumbly) gradually went from fearing my every move to somewhat anticipating my arrival in the barn (I typically arrive bearing food, of course).
After much trial and tribulation, I've been able to trap both Buddy and Billy (nearly two months apart) and have them both neutered (thanks to All About Animals Rescue in Warren, Michigan).
In fact, I wasn't sure they were boys until after their surgery. For several weeks, I thought that Billy, with his distinctive pink-and-white nose, was perhaps a girl. He was smaller in stature than his brother and not nearly as brave. (Plus I never got a good look at their junk.)
But Billy's a boy, alright.
And just like the 1919 World Series, he's fixed.
That's two down; one to go.
Now only Mama needs a trappin' and a fixin'.