So I think I just need to talk. I am starting to feel like the crazy cat lady....and a little trapped by the situation. I live in town, in a moderate sized Victorian house. I had dreams of interiors designed like in the magazines, and was on my way to those goals.
I love cats. I grew up with a gaggle of unmanaged barn cats. Sad creatures mostly, and all outdoors. After leaving my mother's house, I spent a long time not having any pets, because of my apartment situation. So when I bought my own home I definitely wanted a cat to share it with. A friend of mine was loosing her home, and had an old lady (calico, long haired, manx) that she never got along with, and wanted to get rid of. I took to her right away, and she came to live with me. That is the only cat that I adopted. The rest have adopted me.
The neighborhood I live in is mostly multi-family housing...duplexed old mansions. Then add to that all the mortgage foreclosed and tax foreclosed properties. People seem to simply get tired of their pets and shut the door, never to think of them again. That is how MissMouse (aka Poopy Pants) came to live with me. She was the first....
It was the dead of winter 4 years ago. The temps were below zero. For a couple nights, I thought I heard something in the garage...had seen a raccoon around, a BIG one that must live fat on garbage. I just figured it was a coon or squirrel. Then I heard something climbing the screen door and making unidentified noises....Broom in hand.....boots and gloves on....I cracked the door... INSTANTLY the desperate meowing started!!!! It was AWEFUL. I have seen some adamant kitties out on the farm, that try to force their way in when it's cold....this was end of her wits desperation. She was presumably long haired...what was left of it. Remember this is January and below zero with cold hazard warning for pets. She hadn't any undercoat at all. Her guard hair was falling out in clumps. She was bone thin to the point of seeing the fine bones in her cheeks, the cupped indentation of flanks and hips and of course sagging skin between her ribs. The hair that hadn't fallen out was matted with burrs and filthy. I melted. I told myself I would get her fattened up and work something out with the humane society. I didn't want to become the crazy cat lady. Well, Princess Poopy Pants is now lord ruler on high, and the supreme mistress of the household. After she learned to play fetch she sealed her position.
Then, later the following summer, after she was spayed and had time to adopt the house as her territory. She was out laying on the sidewalk as I worked in the front postage stamp of a yard that I have. This hoochie little girl...not more than 20 walks past my house....MissMouse dramatically flops down in front of her feet and rolls over on her back, in classic cat "Hello". The girl says "oh my God, that's MY cat..."...to which I reply something like ("***" in my head) "Excuse me??!!??" out loud. Apparently her name was BabyGirl and her boyfriend got tired of her being in heat, so he tossed her. For a moment she looked like she might scoop her up and take her...which would've lasted about two seconds before I knocked her down and took my cat back......
Like I said, MissMouse was the first...
Then came JAC, the classic calico that decided to start training her nearly weaned kittens in our yard. She had 4 kittens, and I started having flash-backs to gaggles of unmanaged litters of kittens on the farm. There aren't any programs for tame stray cats at our Humane Society, so what to do? We weren't feeding them. They weren't ours. They were just living (and eventually breeding) in our yard. $500.00, innumerable hours coaxing, tranquilizers and 1 live trap later....all 4 kittens and the mom were fixed. I refuse to feed outdoors. From my balcony, I can see a couple households that already feed feral/semi-feral populations. The mom lives happily under a porch two houses over, that is her world. Three of her children come in to eat, and are part time residents. One (my favorite) was super-friendly and just disappeared one day.
Then came un-named male kitten. Again it was winter and frigid. The little bugger turned up on the steps bony. He must have been a late season litter. He was barely weaned. It was right before Christmas, so we fed him and started the robo-calling to the Humane Society. He was taken in right away.
Last year, early spring, my hubby starts photo texting me with this bone thin waif of a grey tiger. Our household income is 1/8 of what it was when we dealt with the first mother and kittens. I told him he could feed her table scraps and nothing else. That lasted until she arrived with three female kittens...little buggers that had just learned to walk. One rainy day, we wrangled them and they started living in the garage. Again, I didn't want a gaggle of breeding females in my yard. My intent was to get them to the Humane Society when there was room....but spring time means ZERO chance even for kittens. Momma escaped once....she never got pudgy, never had the slightest baby-bump...then SURPRISE...two babies. After Momma's second escape (post 2nd litter) I immediately went to the Humane Society and scheduled her to be spayed. I would not buy groceries for two weeks and spend the $50.00 to not have her come home pregnant! I complained desperately about wanting help to get everyone fixed....finally they hooked me up with a super program in my county....ALL 5 baby girls are fixed!!!
Which brings me to my tipping point.....Now there is another. This time male....for once a male!!! He has decided that he lives here, and he can't understand why he doesn't live in the house. He loves EVERYONE....despite their disdain for him. I have given up my library, and it is being converted to a full time playhouse for the cats. I can't let him in....I don't want another cat, and he won't go away. Then my beloved hubby tells me every day, mournfully, he REALLY wants in....He sits in the window looking in, where the girls sit looking out. He love bumps them through the window. If I were making what I used to make, I would have an outdoor enclosure built, the guest house connected to the playroom via private cat tunnel, and regular vet visits for everyone. As it is, I can barely afford flea treatment and food.
I know the stream of cats will never end around here....as long as idiots just throw them out when they get bored. I just wish I could afford to buy the house next door, I would start my own Hood Cats Sanctuary....sigh..
Humbug.
I love cats. I grew up with a gaggle of unmanaged barn cats. Sad creatures mostly, and all outdoors. After leaving my mother's house, I spent a long time not having any pets, because of my apartment situation. So when I bought my own home I definitely wanted a cat to share it with. A friend of mine was loosing her home, and had an old lady (calico, long haired, manx) that she never got along with, and wanted to get rid of. I took to her right away, and she came to live with me. That is the only cat that I adopted. The rest have adopted me.
The neighborhood I live in is mostly multi-family housing...duplexed old mansions. Then add to that all the mortgage foreclosed and tax foreclosed properties. People seem to simply get tired of their pets and shut the door, never to think of them again. That is how MissMouse (aka Poopy Pants) came to live with me. She was the first....
It was the dead of winter 4 years ago. The temps were below zero. For a couple nights, I thought I heard something in the garage...had seen a raccoon around, a BIG one that must live fat on garbage. I just figured it was a coon or squirrel. Then I heard something climbing the screen door and making unidentified noises....Broom in hand.....boots and gloves on....I cracked the door... INSTANTLY the desperate meowing started!!!! It was AWEFUL. I have seen some adamant kitties out on the farm, that try to force their way in when it's cold....this was end of her wits desperation. She was presumably long haired...what was left of it. Remember this is January and below zero with cold hazard warning for pets. She hadn't any undercoat at all. Her guard hair was falling out in clumps. She was bone thin to the point of seeing the fine bones in her cheeks, the cupped indentation of flanks and hips and of course sagging skin between her ribs. The hair that hadn't fallen out was matted with burrs and filthy. I melted. I told myself I would get her fattened up and work something out with the humane society. I didn't want to become the crazy cat lady. Well, Princess Poopy Pants is now lord ruler on high, and the supreme mistress of the household. After she learned to play fetch she sealed her position.
Then, later the following summer, after she was spayed and had time to adopt the house as her territory. She was out laying on the sidewalk as I worked in the front postage stamp of a yard that I have. This hoochie little girl...not more than 20 walks past my house....MissMouse dramatically flops down in front of her feet and rolls over on her back, in classic cat "Hello". The girl says "oh my God, that's MY cat..."...to which I reply something like ("***" in my head) "Excuse me??!!??" out loud. Apparently her name was BabyGirl and her boyfriend got tired of her being in heat, so he tossed her. For a moment she looked like she might scoop her up and take her...which would've lasted about two seconds before I knocked her down and took my cat back......
Like I said, MissMouse was the first...
Then came JAC, the classic calico that decided to start training her nearly weaned kittens in our yard. She had 4 kittens, and I started having flash-backs to gaggles of unmanaged litters of kittens on the farm. There aren't any programs for tame stray cats at our Humane Society, so what to do? We weren't feeding them. They weren't ours. They were just living (and eventually breeding) in our yard. $500.00, innumerable hours coaxing, tranquilizers and 1 live trap later....all 4 kittens and the mom were fixed. I refuse to feed outdoors. From my balcony, I can see a couple households that already feed feral/semi-feral populations. The mom lives happily under a porch two houses over, that is her world. Three of her children come in to eat, and are part time residents. One (my favorite) was super-friendly and just disappeared one day.
Then came un-named male kitten. Again it was winter and frigid. The little bugger turned up on the steps bony. He must have been a late season litter. He was barely weaned. It was right before Christmas, so we fed him and started the robo-calling to the Humane Society. He was taken in right away.
Last year, early spring, my hubby starts photo texting me with this bone thin waif of a grey tiger. Our household income is 1/8 of what it was when we dealt with the first mother and kittens. I told him he could feed her table scraps and nothing else. That lasted until she arrived with three female kittens...little buggers that had just learned to walk. One rainy day, we wrangled them and they started living in the garage. Again, I didn't want a gaggle of breeding females in my yard. My intent was to get them to the Humane Society when there was room....but spring time means ZERO chance even for kittens. Momma escaped once....she never got pudgy, never had the slightest baby-bump...then SURPRISE...two babies. After Momma's second escape (post 2nd litter) I immediately went to the Humane Society and scheduled her to be spayed. I would not buy groceries for two weeks and spend the $50.00 to not have her come home pregnant! I complained desperately about wanting help to get everyone fixed....finally they hooked me up with a super program in my county....ALL 5 baby girls are fixed!!!
Which brings me to my tipping point.....Now there is another. This time male....for once a male!!! He has decided that he lives here, and he can't understand why he doesn't live in the house. He loves EVERYONE....despite their disdain for him. I have given up my library, and it is being converted to a full time playhouse for the cats. I can't let him in....I don't want another cat, and he won't go away. Then my beloved hubby tells me every day, mournfully, he REALLY wants in....He sits in the window looking in, where the girls sit looking out. He love bumps them through the window. If I were making what I used to make, I would have an outdoor enclosure built, the guest house connected to the playroom via private cat tunnel, and regular vet visits for everyone. As it is, I can barely afford flea treatment and food.
I know the stream of cats will never end around here....as long as idiots just throw them out when they get bored. I just wish I could afford to buy the house next door, I would start my own Hood Cats Sanctuary....sigh..
Humbug.