Tag Archives: feral cats

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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Don’t Leave Home Without It

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I can’t believe I’m old enough to say this but back in the day I didn’t have a cell phone in my purse whenever I left the house. That’s because they weren’t invented yet. Unlike today, I was able to function just fine without staying connected every second of every day to every human being I know. If I needed to talk to someone I waited until I got home to dial them from our rotary phone.

beige phone 2

Yep, my family had a dial-up phone ages ago. Now don’t get me wrong; I wasn’t around in the day of switchboards like on the Andy Griffith Show where Andy has to ask switchboard operator, Sarah, to ring Aunt Bee for him. Please, I’m not THAT old!

andy griffith

Anyway, our phone was beige with a long coiled cord that stretched from the kitchen nook into the dining room where we sat and gabbed. But for many years prior, the cord was only 2 feet long so we had to stand to talk. This was also the day of party lines. Know about those?

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An Unusual Gift

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I received the most unusual and unexpected gift last week from someone I’ve never met. She knows me from the work I do with feral cats and is a friend of a friend. So why did she give me a gift? Be patient, I’m getting there…

HoldYourHorses-1

Hold your horses

In this line of work, meaning TNR (Trap-Neuter-Return), I meet some interesting folks. Let’s just say not all of them particularly like cats. Some downright hate ’em. But then not everyone is perfect, right? Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying if you don’t like cats you’re a sociopath. But my guess is you’re probably close.

Anyway, my friend was telling this gift-giving person about my encounters with these as yet undiagnosed sociopaths. They’re the characters who not only make this work interesting, unpredictable, and a little bit scary, but have taught me I should learn self defense. Like yesterday already. I’ve intended to take classes for about 10 years now but have I done it? Intended is the operative word there.

self defense2

Take THAT you cat hater

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Call Me Insane

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Last week I admitted I’ve added yet another cat to my furry four-legged menagerie. Crazy? Let’s go with no. Insane? Possibly. I’ll let you be the judge, even though last week I asked you not to judge me. So I guess what I actually am is a hypocrite.

I had hoped my feeble attempt to tug at your heartstrings would win you over so you’d see I’m a regular person who happens to love animals sometimes more than people. Now don’t get me wrong; mostly I think people are fine and dandy. In fact, I’m quite fond of many of them.

But with my cats and dogs, I love pretty much everything about them — how trusting they are, how excited they get greeting me at the door when I’ve only been gone an hour, how they love me unconditionally and follow me around the house like ducklings trailing their mom. I could go on but I’ll spare you.

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Ned, The Target Cat

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About 6 months ago, a woman and her daughter sent me a video of a long-haired tabby racing through the parking lot of Target late one night. The daughter captured him on her iPhone while her mom yelled, “Film him before he runs away! Hurry, don’t miss him!” Followed by, “I KNOW Mom! I’m getting him!”

When Target closes at 9:00 p.m., cats emerge from the marshland that hugs the store on 2 sides, the bay on the other. Shoppers sometimes leave them food, some contact us (Marin Friends of Ferals) and some, I assume, simply look away.

Target isn’t located near homes so these are feral cats or possibly lost or dumped domestics. So my awesome volunteer, Holly, and I placed a feeding station under a bush off the parking lot, locked a motion sensor camera to it, and started feeding.

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