The feral cats weren't around this afternoon either, so there was time to rake the early-fallen leaves. The cats returned about dusk and looked at me through the window until I took them some food. The brave kitten now gets within two or three feet of the bowl as I fill it. If I let them starve for a couple of days he'd probably be ready to eat out of my hand just to get fed. I won't do that, though, because they would all be looking at me with those sad eyes the whole time they were starving. I'm so kitten-whipped.
Mom is still keeping me very busy, and I'm still semi-comatose from that and from insufficient sleep, and from the heat. It's summer. I ought to be on vacation.