This was an Ipomoea removal day. Actually, the garden could use an Ipomoea removal month. I had a gorgeous blue one, but I took it out because it was threatening to eat the entire garden. I still have runners running in every direction for what seems like miles.
In the meantime, my worst nightmare is coming true: The feral kittens are getting romantic. I facetiously remarked at the start that I hoped the boys wouldn't impregnate the girls before they were all tame enough to undergo alterations. I thought I was joking at the time, but these tiny little kittens are already getting frisky with each other. There are five females in the bunch. What a potential disaster!
Luckily, four of them (two boys, two girls) are already tame enough to put into carriers for the vet. She's my house-call vet, so she comes to the house to pick them up, takes them to a veterinary hospital to perform the surgery, and then brings them back home "flat." That means they're still under the effects of anaesthesia and they wake up at home instead of at the vet's. It's much less stressful for them this way, except for the part where I grab them and lock them up in a cage, of course.
