Remember the noisy fox I wrote about last year? It's still out there, making its calls a few nights per week. I rather like it.

Well, someone answered the call, because now there's at least one baby.

This is only the second time I've seen the kit, but it's the first time that it stayed put long enough for me to get a picture.

Update May 21:

The mother brought at least two kits into the back yard for a little playtime yesterday. Couldn't get a shot of the babies, as she called them back into the woods as soon as I went on the deck to take pictures, but I got her staring right down my lens.

We lost a special little cat today. Her name was Xodus.

Officially, you'd pronounce that the same as Exodus. We tended to call her Zodus, or Zodie-Pop.

Why the weird name? Birmans are traditionally named according to the year of birth: they're all 'X' cats one year, 'Y' cats the next year, then 'Z', then back to 'A', etc. Xodus was seven years old.

In her first year she was the New England region's Best Birman Kitten. We have the ribbons and the plaque to prove it. The picture above comes from that first year. That sweet face and the bright blue eyes melted the judge's hearts the moment they saw her. The pronounced 'M' on her forehead, the perfect head shape, the classic Birman stance, and the thick, deep coat all helped her to win over and over again.

Later we found that she wasn't the healthiest cat in the house. She went into heat in "stealth mode," and got pregnant (with the willing assistance of Xerxes) more than once without warning us ahead of time. She was a breeder, so getting pregnant wouldn't normally be an issue, but she usually had trouble with her litters and we lost a lot of her kittens. We finally had her spayed a couple years ago (in fact, we stopped breeding altogether, and got them all 'fixed').

Corinne has always said that Xodus was a great nap cat. They'd snuggle up in the afternoons and Xodus would just lay quietly under the covers, against Corinne's side, until nap time was over. The other cats were never as good, they'd sometimes wake her up too soon. Never Xodus, so she tended to get a little preferential treatment in the afternoons.

The same could not be said for Xodus at night. Instead of cuddling up with us and sleeping quietly, she would always come crying to me, head-butt me, and make her signature cry: "MMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmm!" That sound and the mark on her forehead produced the nickname, "our little letter M."

Another of our cats, "CP", took a strong dislike to Xodus. Being a much larger cat (she takes after her father, Xerxes), she would chase her into a closet or under the couch, and then stand sentry for hours to make suer she didn't come out. We'd put a stop to it whenever we saw it, but could never teach CP to just leave her alone and we couldn't guard Xodus all day long. For the last couple of years, she spent a little too much time hiding from the other cats.

We came home early this afternoon to the sound of a cat in loud distress. She wasn't making the "m" sound now, but I knew the voice. At first I thought that she was just tired of being hassled by CP. I lifted the couch with one arm, grabbed Xodus with the other, and brought her to the bedroom so she'd be ready for Corinne's nap time. She ran for the edge of the bed to jump down, and I immediately knew something else was wrong: her back legs weren't working.

Corinne was quite upset when I told her — of course — and asked me to please call the vet. The office was closed (Sunday afternoon before Christmas in a small town? Duh.) but Cheryl called back about an hour later and told me to meet her at the office at 3:30.

The diagnosis was a (likely) blood clot in a vessel that runs along the spine (aorta?), about 3/4 of the distance from her head to her tail. She had no feeling in her legs or her tail, and her feet were cold. Treatment would be very expensive, would not reverse the damage which was already done, and was not guaranteed to even clear the clot. Also, many cats (and dogs) who get these clots will get another one a few months later.

Little Xodus was obviously in pain. She hadn't stopped meowing since we came home.

I made the tough decision, told Xodus how sorry I was, and stroked her head and her little M until it was over just minutes later.

Twice in the last month, I've seen a full grown red fox in our yard. The second time was yesterday morning. They're bigger than I expected!

Last night, some animal was calling out in the woods behind our house. Here's what it sounded like:

I don't know that it's the fox making all that noise, but I think it is. It sounds a little like the territorial call as listed on this page of fox sounds.

I already mentioned that this weekend is the anniversary. That makes it, officially, the most emotionally demanding and draining weekend of the year, every year (followed by Shane's birthday, Corinne's birthday, Mother's Day, and Thanksgiving).

Here's what else has been piled up on this weekend, in life's attempt to drive us crazy:

• Shannon's son Richie (two and a half) and her Mom are visiting from North Carolina. Richie is staying here for the weekend. He's a delight, but he's still a two year old... and that adds a layer of craziness to an already crazy weekend.

• One of our cats, Xodus, vanished without a trace at some time on Sunday. These cats never go outside, and Xodus was just spayed a week ago Saturday. She has never tried to escape before, and has never vanished for more than a couple of hours (usually by hiding under some furniture). We're totally stumped! Of course, considering the weekend, it would have to be one of Corinne's favorite cats. Obviously.

• With family here, the Deane's have had this crazy schedule because everybody wants to see the baby and "wish them well" for what's coming tomorrow...

• The big court date is tomorrow (Tuesday). I've described it as a brick wall that we see approaching, and which we know we're going to hit. We can't avoid it, have no idea what's going to happen, but at least we had time to think and prepare for it. If only we could see what's on the other side!

• Today we took "temporary guardianship" of little Lauren Deane. The papers are filed with the probate court, and everything seems to be in order. If Mike and Shannon (God Forbid) both go to prison, at least the baby will have a loving home.

Notice that we really have very little control over most of this crazy weekend. The two biggest things (anniversary and sentencing) are totally out of our control, we wouldn't (and couldn't) keep Shannon from her family for any reason, and we agreed months ago that we'd take care of this baby if the need arose.

But wait, there's more! Last night, as we were turning the house upside down trying to find Xodus, Mike and Shannon asked us if we'd be Lauren's "godparents." Though the timing and wording were somewhat awkward, the thought they expressed — that if something ever happens to them, they want us to raise Lauren as our own — was very touching. We agreed, of course. Then we continued turning the house upside down.

With so much stress, and so many things (this weekend) that I must "accept that I can not change," I decided the best thing for me was a bike ride. So I went out for 32 miles. My speed was somewhere between molasses and cold honey.

There's nothing like the cyclist's high to help you enjoy your ride on the tornado.

Rick McPherson at Waterford Country School (to whom I was referred by Groton's animal control officer) says to just let him go.

So basically, the little rat got a free meal (cat food), and warm place to sleep for a little while (my office), and now can just go on about his business. I'm sure he'll be back... in a few days there will be a whole herd of them at my door.

Wow are Opossum ugly. This baby is only slightly less ugly than the adult variety seen on the side of the road every day (the kind with the treadmark pattern running the full length of its body).

This little guy tried, for about thirty minutes, to find some way into my office through the sliding glass doors into my office from the back yard. (This might have something to do with the weather, it's really cold, but I think it's just because he's a young'un, and he's hungry). Then he went up on the deck and completely freaked out the parrots in their room (which has big windows looking out on the deck). It was their screams of terror and fury that finally convinced me to do something about him.

Not that it was difficult.

I put some cat food on a paper towel, in the bottom of cat-carrier. He surprised me by not running away when I went outside, so I just put the carrier down in front of him. After a minute of sniffing, he walked right in and started eating. I just walked up to it and closed the door... on his tail. Oops. He spun around at the incredible speed that only possums can manage -- at least 1,000 millimeters per hour -- and looked at me. That it. I opened the door again, pushed his tail out the way with my hand, and closed it.

Now he's incarcerated in my office, while I read him possum recipes ... and wait for Groton animal control to call me back.

"Woo doggie, that there's some good country liviin'!"

Update: Sorry, Richard. Opossum, not possum. My bad.