Family of Gray Cats

I returned to the cemetery on my walk with Lily. Two of the long-haired gray cats were huddled behind the cemetery garage, and a very curious and bold squirrel was watching to see if I was going to put more cat food out. One cat ran away, but I was able to pick up the other one. I tried to put her in my canvas bag as Lily was barking. The cat crawled up my head, jumped down, and ran to the dead tree on the cliff over the road. I grabbed her and clutched her to my chest, determined to rescue her. Lily was fine once we were walking, and the cat was okay but meowing. We walked the mile back to my house. The cat was happy to hang out in the cat carrier in the living room, curled up on a towel and sitting in the sun.

I took Lily back out and looked for the other two cats. Lily sniffed in the storm drain and got her nose bopped by a cat's claw. There was a drop of blood on her cheek among her whiskers. She didn't bark, but the mother cat, hiding in the storm drain, was hissing. I looked and spotted the other cat near a groundhog hole. I reached for her and she ran into the hole. Duh! I knew I wouldn't be able to get them out. The sun was setting, and they were now safe and relatively warm. I poured cat kibble into the groundhog hole and the storm drain. The dish of water was still out. I'll bring more food and check on them again today. I know that squirrel will be waiting.