Noises in the night

Last night was one of the longest nights of my life.

I think I slept for an hour or so which was nice (not).  So right about now, after a full day at work followed by a friend over for dinner (why oh why), my eyes are hanging out of my head and I'm just a touch delirious.  Certainly the glass of red wine I had with dinner wouldn't be helping that any either.

But that's not the story I'm trying to tell.  This is....

There I was last night, all tucked up in bed and about to drift into deep dreams of restfulness when there came a noise.  And then it came again.  And again.  And then it kept on going until 5am this morning when I finally cracked the shits and went downstairs to find out just what on earth the problem was.  

Why I left it so long to do anything I'm not sure - truly, I could have gone downstairs when I first heard it, but I think it has something to do with my innate belief in there being some jobs for the girls of the family and some solely for the boys.  Investigating noises in the dark falls directly, unquestionably into the latter category.  There is a reason the big baddie bashing stick is not on my side of the bed.

So what was the noise you ask?  Certainly nothing scary - I knew exactly what it was when I first heard it but it was dark out.  And it's even darker downstairs.  And there is stuff everywhere and I would have walked into something for sure.  Plus, investigating noises in the dark is not in my job description.

The noise you ask, what was the noise?  


........

It was a kitten.

A kitten mewling.  

A little kitten mewling.  

A desperate little kitten mewling a desperate little mewl (?).  

I know, I know, how absolutely terrible and selfish and un-caring for animal welfare am I but it was dark, darker downstairs, with stuff everywhere and investigating noises in the dark is not in my job description.  And on principle, I wasn't going to be the one to get up and deal with it in the dark. That would just be setting a precedent that I wasn't about to start.

So instead I lay there and listened.  And  listened.  And listened.  For hours.  Hours.  While the LOML snuffled and snored beside me.  Not happy Jan.

Once the sky started to lighten and chase the shadows away I huffed and puffed and got up and made my way downstairs where I found these.....

...mumma puss and her babies.  

Not our mumma puss - we don't own a cat - someone else's mumma puss.  Why she chose our house to make her home to raise her littlies I don't know.  And how she managed to raise these babies for so long - clearly they are not newborn, they are big and their eyes are open, we're talking weeks - without me knowing escapes me.  Clearly neither the LOML nor I venture into that part of downstairs anywhere near often enough.  Hmmmm.

It turned out that one of the kittens (the darkest grey one on the left) had fallen off the makeshift nest mumma puss had made on top of all the stuff downstairs and couldn't get back up, hence the mewling.  Why mumma puss didn't get down and pick him up has me stumped but she didn't and instead he did not shut up all night.

All night.

Mumma puss and babies are now with the city council animal management people who will try to find her owner to take her home.  I hope they are successful.  It was all I could do not to cave in and keep her and her babies.  She was a beautiful cat and they were beautiful babies.  However I wasn't sure how I would explain to the LOML that we now had four cats, surprise!....so I thought it best to go with no.  

Looking forward to an uninterrupted sleep tonight.