ALERT: CAT BURGLAR IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

And guess what? The cat burglar is me. I did it... I snatched myself a wild cat!

I was in Fayetteville Saturday night and had about 20 minutes to kill, so I decided to drop in on the feral kitty colony to see how my little friends were faring. And when I pulled up, I saw a new face... a sweet little siamese face that I'd swear was smiling at me as it playfully chased leaves blowing across the sidewalk.

I knew there were kittens on the premises... Mark and I had heard them once or twice, many weeks earlier, but we had never seen them so had decided that either they didn't make it or that the momma cat had moved them elsewhere. So I immediately fired off a couple of quick text messages to let Mark, who was nearby, know of my exciting find. He messaged right back, "BRT!"

So I crept out of the Hoopty and sat down on the sidewalk, near the kitten. It was playing alongside its mother and had laid down beside her, still playing and distracted by the rustling of the leaves. I sat there for several minutes, just cooing at them in my most wheedling of babytalk voices as I gradually inched closer. I couldn't believe they didn't run off immediately! In fact, they let me get really close until a gust of wind noisily blew a bunch of leaves into the air, sending the kitten scurrying under the step of the wooden deck. In an instant, I knew it was just the right time to make my move. I alit to the top of the deck, crawled on all fours to the edge and waited for lil' sweet-face to scamper back out. It did come out a couple of times, but darted back in before I could grab for it. So here I am, on my hands and knees... holding my breath... waiting... stalking... when Mark pulls up, just in time for the big "Gotcha!" moment. He got to witness, firsthand, the comedic pose of my swooping up the sweet little sprite. I don't know who was more stunned-- me, the kitten or Mark!

I'm sorry, ya'll... but I just have to brag a little here. This was a feat of athleticism unparalleled in my absurdly uncoordinated life. I was stealthy, silent and lightning-fast! Like Ted Nugent with french-manicured tips instead of a crossbow! No dogcatcher with a net ever did it any better... and no champion cat-wrapping vet could have exercised more precise technique. I'm pretty much the bomb-diggity of cat-nabbers.

Anyway, swiping a cat will pretty much wipe out your plans for the evening, so I headed right home with my confused little charge. I still had a can or two of Kitten Replacement Milk left over from the baby raccoon last July (it's pure coincidence, I don't know what prompts me to latch onto wayward baby animals this time of the year), so we settled in and got to know each other over a bottle or two for the next several hours.

Come to find out, sweetie-pie is a little girl with an extremely sweet disposition and boundless energy for running, playing and chasing strings. She is quite talkative, mewing constantly in her high-pitched squeak of a meow... has taken to the litter box quickly (thank goodness)... and will most likely tear up my leather furniture with her Gillette-like claws. She leaps, mid-air onto everything in sight, her claws splayed out so they can attach to whatever. My shins look like I've been in a fight with a liger. I'm totally freakin' smitten.

But the cutest thing of all is Mark... he's, like, couch-jumping, tomkat crazy over this beautiful, blue-eyed, 10-ounce furball. Seriously, he will probably be on Oprah next week, pumping his arms in Neil Diamond/Jazz Singer fashion and yelling, "I'm in love!" while jumping on my shredded leather couch and intermittently pounding his fists on the floor. Unlike the Tom Cruise shenanigans, though, this is really sweet and totally un-creepy. Mark's wanted me to get a kitten for a long time, but I've been reluctant-- just not wanting to live up to the Crazy Cat Lady standard (two is cool, three is unbalanced). But Mark keeps encouraging me, thinking it might reinvigorate the Snark Sisters,who are in dire need of reinvigorating.

So much for that theory.

Les Snarks are no longer speaking to me. The only thing it has reinvigorated so far is their ugly side. They are all hissy-catty-spitty-spatty. My pad is like Jon & Kate Plus 8: The Feline Version right now... lots of howling and chaos and poop. But it's ok...we'll get there in time. And until then, the baby needs a name. I'm thinking... Suri?