|"You're not my Mommy! Where did she go?"|
|Second kit, hanging on.|
The mother escorted the first pair of kits home, then came back for these two. They scrambled down again, awkwardly, then scampered off into the ivy.
Afterwards, I purposely left another hose dripping for them; the kits can't reach my birdbath, where the mother got her drink.
(I haven't forgotten the history I was looking up, but somehow the days got too full to do it justice. Birthday party tomorrow - mine, my daughter's, and my granddaughters, all the same week. I may be too tired tomorrow to blog, but I'll be back Monday.)