Category Archives: Feral Cats

How I Conquered a Phobia

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Originally posted in 2013

I think most people harbor a fear that borders on phobia. For me it’s snakes and small spaces. I understand why snakes give me the creeps, but small spaces? Maybe it’s the fear of suffocation or being trapped. Regardless, neither sound inviting to me.

I remember when we were kids, my brother put a pillow over my face as we played. I felt such terror that all rational thought left me; I screamed like I was dying. That feeling is still with me today whenever I feel confined.

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Skye, My Slightly Cross Eyed Feral Cat

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Number seven in the lineup of my furry family members is Skye, a Lynx Point. Where do I start with her? Skye is a complicated one, the most feral of my cats, followed by Mango, another of my skitty kitties. Both are afraid of their own shadow, which is one reason I had to keep them. Let’s take Skye today.

I actually didn’t remember where I trapped Skye because I’ve trapped hundreds of cats so I had to look her up. I’m not like my co-worker, Leanne, who has a memory like an elephant whereas mine is in the hamster realm, purported to be three seconds long. As it turns out, Skye and her siblings were trapped as kittens in the Mt. Shasta area and brought to Marin Humane where I fostered her.

Leanne
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Savannah and Dash

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So where were we? Ah, yes…continuing the countdown introducing you to my 4-legged menagerie and their various personality traits that either drive me nuts or endear me to them even more. We’ve finished with Skip, Oliver and Fat Jack. So let’s tackle Savannah and Dash next, shall we? (Yes, we shall).

Savannah
Dash
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Along for the Ride, in Spirit

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Susan in Mendocino

Today I was thinking about my late business partner, Susan, while I trapped feral cats on a 50 acre water buffalo farm where they produce mozzarella in rural Marin County. Talk about farm fresh. As you’ve probably guessed, it’s uniqueness is evident. I mean, seriously, it’s where the buffalo roam. (And, I’m guessing, where the deer and the antelope play.)

water buffalo3

water buffalo2

Anywhere rural is bound to have feral cats. Like being in one of those revolving doors at fancy hotels, they tend to come and go. But not before we ensure they stop having kittens. Still, that’s a tall order to fill when, if we miss 2 cats of the opposite sex, well, there ya go.

revolving door

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Gone Girl

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By now you all know I have another cat, Piper. She’s been proving to be quite the character. Already a foodie, she often pushes herself past the other cats, each waiting at their respective bowls for yours truly to fill them. Sadly, patience is not Piper’s strong suit.

Having yet to figure out which bowl is hers, or that I feed the cats in order of seniority, Piper is last to eat and is none too happy about it. Old man Oliver goes first but she dives her head into his bowl, promptly receiving a swat that says, “Don’t even think about it.”

Piper then moves on to Fat Jack who in no way looks like a cat who wants to share. Dash could care less and lets her eat but I inevitably place her at her own bowl.

Only Mango preferred not to be photographed

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