Tag Archives: feral cats

Welcome Home, OC

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I’ve been on a cat kick these days. Not exactly a surprise since they occupy a good part of my day. But each story is unique and in this tale, the life of OC (Orange Cat) is exactly that. I promise next week my post won’t include anything containing fur or with four legs.

Many years ago, OC showed up in a small colony of ferals living behind a movie theater. We trapped him, scanned his microchip, and returned him to his registered guardian who had 20-something ferals. Seems OC isn’t a social butterfly, so he hightailed it back to his preferred stomping grounds.

Over the years, our dedicated group of volunteers fed the cats their daily meal. As time passed and colony cats died, OC was like the Energizer Bunny who just keeps on going. So eventually, he lived out there alone.

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Making a Difference

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I originally wrote this post in 2014. Seems like a good time for a feel-good story again…

So often in our feral cat rescue (Marin Friends of Ferals) it feels like we’re barely making a dent in controlling breeding. You think rabbits and mice are prolific baby-makers? Well, unaltered felines are like polygamists with 5 kids per wife, or maybe the Duggar family (19 Kids and Counting). They have no Off switch.

But the difference with cats is that they can’t control their mating and subsequent reproducing. No, I’m afraid this one’s on us. People refuse to spay and neuter pets for many reasons: they believe it will make the animal lazy and fat (false); some are simply against birth control; others just can’t be bothered. You name it, I’ve heard it.

Not a result of being sterilized
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My Guardian Angel

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I can’t tell you how happy I am my guardian angel rarely takes a coffee break. I’m guessing many angels lack sleep because mine seems to always be on duty, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I’m fairly certain, however, that I frustrate her, especially when I don’t heed her warnings.

For instance, a few years back I was driving in freeway traffic where the speed in which we were moving amounted to crawling at roughly 20 mph. In my boredom, I reached over to retrieve something from the passenger seat. And at that moment a strange feeling came over me and, like someone whispering into my ear, I heard, “Janet, pay attention.” So I looked up, a bit too late, and bumped into the car in front of me. Fortunately, since we were crawling, my bumper only slightly dented his.

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Last But Not Least

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Last but not least in the lineup of my furry family is Mango, an orange and white tabby female. You’re probably relieved to hear this is the last chronicle since it’s taken a couple months to introduce you to each animal. Let me tell ya, coming up with new blog posts 52 times a year isn’t easy (and why I sheepishly reprint some from years ago). I’m counting on you not remembering them because sometimes even I don’t.

Mango’s first photo

Anyway, when Mango was a feral kitten, a friend’s neighbor fostered her. He’s a cat guy (yes, they actually exist). But when he couldn’t keep her any longer, I decided to foster her and get my orange cat fix since I have a thing for them.

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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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