Cats: they’re fun, they’re pests, they are useful…. and their numbers increase faster than you can give them away.
Three years ago, a stray, perhaps alerted by a cat style hobo mark, stopped by, ready for her handout. Skinny and obviously carrying kittens, she received her expected daily handout of table scraps.
These were placed in a worn-out birdbath, and if you have never heard of a birdbath being worn out, let me assure you that it can happen! Not from the flapping and fluttering of wings, however, but from a flaw in the concrete, which caused it to deteriorate until huge holes appeared, and it could no longer hold water.
Now that it had become a convenient feeder for the cat, other wildlife took notice. There were four crows, jays and cardinals, and one evening we glanced out the window and spied a fox crouched n the birdbath, happily enjoying the remains of our evening meal.
At about this time, the cat with no name, retired to have her kittens. Happily, there were only two; identical black and white ones, a male and a female. They were a joy to watch as they jumped and wrestled in the late evening twilight. As half grown cats they seemed not to notice that their no-name mama had deserted them (and us), and one night the male also decided to roam and like his mama, never returned.
The little female grew tall and leggy, but remained as wild as her mother and no amount of food put any fat on her lean frame, but her fur was jet black and glossy so she officially became Pretty Cat, as we are not imaginative folks. Soon I renamed her Mighty Cat, after watching her frighten the fox away from her dinner table. Occasionally, she would deliberately lengthen her meal time, while the fox waited patiently a short distance away.
Once the fox must have been extremely hungry, for he got to the feed early, and established himself firmly over the goodies before Mighty Cat arrived. It was a standoff. He ate, She watched. She even swatted that long bushy tail hanging over the edge of the feeder, with no results. In the naturally progression of cat life, Mighty Cat soon presented us with her own litter of five kittens, a beautifully marked brindle, a grey and white, and three ugly tortoise ones because of their strangely marked faces. Following in the footsteps of her mama, she also disappeared, returning occasionally to swat her brood away from the feed pan. By this time, we were buying cat food in 15 lb. bags. The foxes had left, deciding they could feed elsewhere with less hassle.
Of the five kittens, all females), we managed to catch two and sent them to a new home in a barn reported to have an over abundance of mice and rats. Their yowls of protest as they were placed in a carrier were impressive and the remaining three cats became even more leery of a human touch and strange vehicles sent them streaking for shelter. Their appetites were never diminished by their nervousness.
Suggestions about what to do with three female cats were plentiful. Suggestions don’t tame cats and the wild gene remains strong in this group of cats and continues in a new, fourth generation of eight darling blue eyed kittens. A direct look sends them under the nearest bush. A movement of a single hand sends them streaking for distant safety. Regardless, now that there are eight new, wild little critters creeping up to join their mamas at the feed pan, somehow, a cat-snatching must be arranged..