The Return of the Calico

Upon rescuing our four indoor cats, there were two female calicos and two domestic short haired in the litter.  The two domestic were a solid grey female and solid orange male.  Mama Calico had abandoned them.  We took on the responsibility of caring and feeding the four when they were just four weeks old.  Since then, Mama Calico had one other litter before she disappeared.  She left behind two female Calicos (Devil Eyes and Little Calico).  But these two cats would disappear as well.  Little Calico’s offspring was Tarzan (a female, we had misnamed.)  Tarzan is a black long haired domestic. She is still with us.  From Devil Eye’s she left behind a white long haired female kitten (Moth Ball).  Skillet who is dark grey has managed to have a white female kitten (Hope).  We named her Hope because we hope she makes it.  The life for strays is short.  Mama cats, Daddy cats and kittens seem to really have short lives.  There are so many dangers outside.  I wish I could bring all cats I see outside into the house.  But I can’t.   I have a limit on how many I can take care of properly with food, veterinarian visits, etc.  But it still doesn’t keep me from wishing I could rescue them all.

But for the cats outside, the Calico has disappeared.  With the turn over, we have black, dark grey, light grey and a couple of orange males.  With the two white female kittens that I mentioned above, I’m in hopes the Calico kittens will return.  The different colors are so pretty.  Not to take anything from any of them, all cats are pretty.  But that Calico adds color to the colony. If only I could match-up the orange with the white; then surely calicos would come.  But that decision is not mine.

I was reminded this past Halloween about the superstitions surrounding black cats. I think maybe that has me thinking about wishing the colony had more color.  If I believed in bad luck, I would certainly have it.  The black cat is dominant within the circle of those I feed.

Black cats have played a major role in superstitions, folklore and mythology for centuries.  Black cats can portend either good or bad luck.  Most of us ignore the good luck becoming more familiar with the bad luck superstitions…witches, evil omens and scary path crossings.  I thought about the crossing paths each time I fed the strays this past Halloween.   The cats are not letting me touch them, but they sure run in front of me a lot as they head for the different pails of food.  Cats are loving creatures no matter the color.  I love all the strays I feed.  I want all to have a long and healthy life.
          But, I am not without wishing to write in the future of the birth of a litter of calico kittens.

     

Happy Thanksgiving!

           I will not be submitting a story to "My Life with Cats" again until the weekend of November 30 - December 2.  I am taking the Thanksgiving holiday off from writing.  With this announcement, I want to take the opportunity to wish all my loyal cat readers a very Happy Thanksgiving.  Until we share again our love of cats, God bless you all.

Your Friend,
Teresa

An Opinion: Everyone Has One

There appears to be many opinions on how to manage the estimated 50 million feral and stray cats.  I sometimes find it hard to believe there are that many out there.  Who took the latest census on cats?  How did they come up with that number?  People are counted every ten years and even then the number is inaccurate.  But according to what I have read, there are that many cats out there.  Even if one has never seen a feral cat, it likely one is in your neighborhood.  So, I should not question, but take it all as fact.  I simply do my best to be protective of the few I can.  Until I started feeding stray cats, I never saw them.  But then again, I never looked for them.  Now I seem to see cats everywhere.

             I was standing in a check-out line at a grocery store.  I was paying for only cat food at the time.  It never fails to bring a comment from the person in the line behind me.
            “How many cats do you have?”  It is the number one question that is asked of me.  One day a lady did not stop the conversation with the one mere question.  She continued to talk after I told her I fed stray cats.
            “We don’t have any stray cats in my neighborhood,” replied the lady.
              I had a come-back answer.
              “Why don’t you put out some cat food and find out.  That is how I started feeding stray cats.”
              The stray lives in shadows-the alleyways, empty lots and condemned buildings-of almost every neighborhood.  The stray cat’s life is short and usually harsh.  He/she struggles to find food and water in an environment filled with the constant threats of disease, starvation, cruelty and predators.
               I was standing in line to go in a food bank with someone who lost her job.  There was a conversation that commenced between me and a man behind us.  He was down and out about our economy and all the unemployed unable to find work.  He went right into downing people who take care of animals.
            “I think they should stop helping and caring for animals.  The money they spend should be spent on the people.”
            “I think you’re talking to the wrong person.  I feed stray cats.” I continued in saying, “If you’re worried about unemployment, you need to think about this.  If you stopped all people who did anything to help animals, how many people do you think would be unemployed then?”
           We all have opinions and too often we give them.  I do what I think is right.  As for cats, they are God's creatures put on this earth for a reason.  My opinion becomes one of respect for the innocent cat.  I can't do much, but at least I am doing something.
                                                                                                                                                                                                  

Ricky and Racky

My brothers, sister and I were waiting for the school bus at the bottom of the hill.  Our house sat atop the hill.  A gravel road ran alongside the house.  It split our property.  With the house on one side, there was a stable on the other side.   My Mother was milking a cow at that very stable that particular morning.  We could see the bus in a distance.  It would make several stops before arriving to pick us up.   But that is not what caught our attention.   Instead, there came running as fast as it could a cat being chased by another cat.  We recognized our female cat.  She was in the back.  The cat in front was one we had never seen before.  But it was much larger than our cat.  It led us to believe it was a male.  Why was our cat chasing another cat?  The answer would come later that day after we returned from school.

“I was milking the cow,” said Mother.  “Susie liked to be by my side as I would squirt milk at her to drink.  But Susie heard something in the loft of the stable and took off running.  I was close behind.  Susie had, had her kittens.  She had made a bed for them between hay bales.  But upon arriving in the loft, there was something blocking the only entrance to her kittens.  I pulled back a bale of hay to expose a male cat over her kittens.  He took off running with Susie close behind.  I think if she had caught him that she would have killed him.  I looked on to see four little kittens.  There were two dead and two alive.  But I could tell the two alive had injuries.  If it had been any longer before we got there, they too would have been dead.”

In the days to follow, the two small kittens seem to fight for survival.  They had problems, but would survive.  They were both male kittens.  We named them Ricky and Racky.  One kitten was blind in one eye.  The other would be a cripple.  Ricky, the one eyed blind one, got around good.  The blind in one eye never stopped him in his playful nature.  Racky, though, wasn’t as lucky.  He was slow to get around.  He gained weight and was such a soft kitty.  We gave both special attention and love.   And rightfully so; they deserved it after the ordeal they went through.

Instead of living in the stable where they were born, we moved them to the main house.  Mother cat apparently agreed with the move as she never tried to move them back or anywhere else.  We did have dogs and other cats.  And being it was a farm, they had the run of large open spaces.  They never had any crucial conflict with other animals.  They got along with everyone.  They were content to stay around the house though.  Although their lives started with tragedy, they did live lengthy lives even with their handicaps.

I never knew some male cats kill kittens.  There are reasons for that given in books written.  But to experience it first-hand, it leaves a forever lasting memory.  With so many predators out there, even among their own, for the cat, how do so many survive?

The Guard Cat

T.C. was a long haired black tabby cat.  She had tinted red within her black hair.  She was one of three born to Squeak.  The other two were male (Tiger and Peanut Butter).  T.C. was spayed.  The two males were not neutered.  All three cats were both indoor and outdoor cats.  But the two males would wonder off when outside.  T.C. stayed in the front yard.  She literally lived on the front porch.  She apparently never went anywhere else, or at least she was never seen out of our yard.  She liked the outside better.  T.C. seemed to like people too.  But yet, she never allowed any stranger to pick her up.  She allowed only her owners (the children) to do that, but yet not often.  She wasn’t a cuddly cat.

The first time I saw T.C. display a special type of behavior, I found myself laughing.  T.C. was no male cat, but yet she had marked her territory.  Although we had a leash law, very seldom did neighbors obey it.  Dogs ran up and down the street with no collar.  The ownership of the animal was seldom known unless the dog lingered in a particular yard for some time.

Here comes a dog and off the porch T.C. jumps.  She walks down the front part of our yard as the dog approaches.  Amusing as it is, she does it where my property ends.  That dog does not enter the yard at all.  How she got away with it, I don’t really know after all she is a cat.   But she guarded the front yard and allowed that dog not to enter.  She never had any intention of running from that dog.  He continued his journey up the street.  She had managed to intimidate him.

It was appropriate as when T.C.’s life ended, it ended on our front porch.  There she lay near the front door one morning.  She had made it seventeen years.  She was guarding my property until the end.  In the backyard, she was laid to rest in what we called our Pet Cemetery.

Cats are known to be this way and that way in similarities.  But yet, they are so different.  Children can be raised in the same house and have a different personality.  Are cats really any different as they too develop their own personality?  T.C. had two brothers from the same litter.  She was the only one that became a guard cat.  I have not had another cat to show such behavior.

Cats come and cats go.  It is the cycle of life.  And who is to say, they don’t have their purpose on earth too?  When a stray dog crosses my yard, I still have T.C. crossing my mind.

“If T.C. were still alive, you’d be finding another route.” I shout.  “My guard cat would be sending you on your way.”

            And then; a smile crosses my face.  

TC chasing a neighbor's dog.

Moth Ball

This is Moth Ball's mother, Devil Eyes.

I could sit for hours watching two stray kittens play.  They are of such innocence.  They can spend an unnumbered amount of time just running at each other.  Even Mother is not beyond their playful antics. From my den window, I watched two kittens at a neighbor’s house across the street.  The mother cat, Devil Eyes, had found what she thought a safe place.  It was under the house through an open vent.  She would eat food put out at my house and then cross the street to call her two out for nursing.  When finished nursing, they played.  If unexpected danger came, a dog or human, through the vent they went running while Mother found other protective cover.  I wondered how they were able to get through such a small opening.  But I have read cats can squeeze through small openings.  But apparently that opening did stop the much bigger Mother cat.

I had noticed sometime that the kittens were there, but apparently the owner took a while in learning this.  When she did, she took steps to solve what she thought to be a problem.  She closed off the vent with heavy blocks.  But she did not stop with just that.  She had her son throw moth balls in her yard.  A deterrent she saw to rid herself of unwelcome cats.  On any given day, the smell of moth balls linger.  Before the mother cat made it in finding a new home, she lost one kitten to the traffic in our subdivision.  She moved the remaining one kitten under my house inside my vent.  

Many property owners don’t like a cat using their garden as a litter boxes.  Moth balls are a toxic and can kill a cat, a dog, or other animals.  If consumed, they can destroy the liver.  Moth balls are registered pesticides which are illegal to use for anything other than what is described on the container. Could not the owner find a safer deterrent?  I think so; information is available out there if one simply looks.

Cats are not necessarily the pesky creatures many like to believe.  In many cases, the good outweighs the bad.  Even I don’t like the cat using my garden as a litter box.  But I had a mole problem in my garden.  I don’t have one now with the stray cat coming around.  They also rid an area of mice and sometimes pesky insects.  I watch as my indoor cats take flying leaps to catch flies that may have entered the house through opening a door.  They make it better than a fly swatter.  

Devil Eyes has taught her little white kitten to eat solid food and drink water at my house.  The little white long haired tabby has been given the name Moth Ball.  It becomes a reminder of the neighbor across the street.  As for what is the kitten’s gender, it will reveal itself in time.  Meanwhile from a distance, a remarkable trait stands out.  Moth Ball has a set of beautiful blue eyes that stare back at me.  As she stares, I wink my eyes at her. I have heard this is a form of communication.  I think maybe the kitten is sizing me up with her stares.  Maybe someday; she will allow my touch.

In The Heat

            The summer of 2012 was a hot one.  It went down in the record books.  Across the nation, our state included, saw record consecutive days with the heat hitting over one hundred.  The first thing that crossed my mind was how do cats make it in this heat?  I found the comfort of my house with air-conditioning.   But a stray cat you can’t catch and bring indoors.  And so, I continued to feed them and keep fresh water out.  But for those cats out there that did not have this, I wondered about their survival.  It was among my few I fed and watered, I would see the heat take a victim.  It sure hit close to home!

            Joyce was one of Likes ‘Em Green’s kittens.  The cat, Likes ‘Em Green, was given the name by me.  The name came from a neighbor who abandoned her.  She lost her home.  The neighbor, knowing I had a garden, yelled from her house one day wanting some tomatoes.

            “I likes ‘em green,” she yelled.

            After the neighbor lost her house, she left the mother cat behind.  The mother cat moved in under the house next door.  She began immediately coming to our house to eat.  Then she would go back to the house next door.  She had litter after litter that would soon wind up eating at our house also.  Because the cat had been abandoned, I named her from the last words yelled by that neighbor.  She became Likes ‘Em Green.

            It was two years ago that two kittens from her latest litter came to eat.  I named the female kitten Joyce and the male kitten Neil.  Neil would wonder off and became victim to poisoning.  When taking him to the Humane Society barely alive, they verified poisoning.  But Joyce was a home body.  She never made it out of the two back yards.  From the time she came to eat, we could tell things weren’t right with Joyce.  When walking, she never got faster than a snail’s pace.  I would have to watch my step so as not to step or trip on her.  She was constantly gagging for air.  When she tried to sit down, she never made it to a full sitting position.  And in those two years, male cats never came near her.  There was no doubt in our minds that she had suffered birth defect or something had harmed her in some manner.  She would eat, but never before the other cats.  She ate and drank enough to keep her alive.  Being she was a stray, we never tried to pick her up as we probably would only add to her pain.  We really felt there was nothing we could do for her except let her live out her life in what comfort we could give her.  She was never lacking for food or water.  Eventually she left entirely the house next door and moved in our back yard.  She did nothing except lay around where she ate and drank.  Little kittens would try to play with her, but finally they moved on to another cat. 

            “I really don’t think Joyce will make it in the heat,” said my son.

            I was optimistic and replied, “She made it through winter.”  Last year was not a bad winter, but the previous one was.  I had to believe Joyce would make it.

            But the heat got her.  I found her barely off our patio.  On one of the hottest days, Joyce had passed away.  She was buried under the pear tree in our back yard.  It is hard not to get attached to a cat you see every day.  We miss her!