December 27, 2013 – It was nearly 11:00 this morning, when Peaches came storming into our henhouse squawking in a flurry of bite-sized syllables. I could hardly make heads or tails out of what she was saying.
“You’re not going to like this news… not one bit! No, not at all!!” she paced back and forth in her best Chicken Little impersonation.
“Calm down!” I said to her. “Take a breath and tell me what it is that has your feathers in a bunch.”
“Cat!” she gasped, as the solitary word fell from her beak. It pierced my senses like an arrow.
I grabbed my colander helmet and Sawyer’s rolling pin and shot out of the coop, forgetting entirely that I was in the middle of laying an egg. Luckily, it landed in a soft pile of shavings just inside the threshold.
“NO!! Peaches screamed after me from the doorway. “There isn’t a cat trespassing on our property! It’s much, much worse than that!”
I froze in my tracks and slowly turned as the rest of the story trickled out of Peaches’ mouth.
“Mom just brought home a kitten! I saw them carrying her into the house. She’s a tiny thing; quite cute actually. I think they’ve named her Holly because she’s a Christmas cat. She’s gray and…”
“WHAT!!!!!????” I bellowed, cutting her off mid sentence. I stormed up to the side yard, spitting forth all sorts of nasty comments about allegiance and trust and misplaced loyalty. I hopped onto a log under Mom’s office window and peered into the living room. There they were. Huddled around the Christmas tree like a scene from a Dicken’s tale. Peaches was right. Mom was holding a baby kitten that had to be no more than eight weeks old. I could feel my heart beating thunderously in my chest. I was fuming! How could she betray me like this? Just then, Mom caught me staring through the glass and walked over to talk to me.
“Happy,” she said cheerfully through the panes. “This is Holly. She needed a forever home and we’re giving her one. I’m sure that even you would not deny this little kitten a warm and safe place to live.”
Playing on my tender side. Mom was good. Very good. I was about to reply with a witty and biting retort, when the baby kitten caught my eye. She smiled at me. I melted. I turned my head, chastising myself for being so weak. This is a feline we’re talking about! One that will inevitably grow into a dreadful cat. Keep it together, hen!! I waved my wing and cooed at her like a dork before returning to the coop and informing the others.
Oh boy. I’m going to need therapy over this one.