Sammy's Birthday

Yesterday was Sammy's birthday.
He celebrated the BIG 4!!
That is 28 in people years or so "they” say.

As usual at our home there is never a dull moment. And so commences story time.

We wake around 6:00 every morning (except weekends). Drag out of bed and immediately feed the raptors. A.K.A. the dogs. Well yesterday morning, Sammy's birthday, was no exception. The puppy processional proceeds to the back porch as usual except this time the wild beasts start acting crazy. I instantly (as in it took my sleep fogged brain about five minutes) react.

"Stop it!" I holler.
"No, STOP!! SAM! RILEY! RUDY! MOLLY!! KNOCK IT OFF!!"
I have just realized they are in prey mode and ready to tear some furry creature to shreds.

While shrieking at the top of my lungs to get their attention, which they promptly ignore, I continue chasing them and the furry creature.

At first I think it is one of our cats, then OH MY GOD NOT a raccoon, but no, it is neither.

It is a itty bitty smelly, stinky kitten which I am finally able to scoop up with my right hand saving it from the jaws of death.

Whereas the grateful, freaked out, scared to death kitten bites me. Sinking its tiny razor sharp teeth into my fat fleshy hand. Oh bless its little soul.
At that moment my husband comes to the rescue ripping the fierce feline from its death grip on my hand and calms the little beast down.

We wrap it in a towel, put it in a box, and take it to the Humane Society.

Sam was greatly disappointed. He really wanted that squeaky toy for his birthday.