A cold and gray day. The kind that reminds me why I would not love living in Seattle. There isn't rain today, but it feels like a sprinkle can happen anytime. At least that's what I tell Ed when he suggests we bike over to play disc golf.
No, not today. Better to tidy the farmhouse, eat breakfast in the kitchen...
... then lose myself in this photo book project, before the grains of sand run out and I wind up paying more for the production than I would if I finish up quickly. The sale after all, ends in two days.
The only time we devote to outdoor play is in the middle of the day when we step out to engage the kitties in a little more bonding. This is deliberate: we want to be able to handle the little guys so that we can get them to the vet in a couple of months. Too, it's more pleasant to have friendly cats around than to have cats that are skittish.
Perhaps our determination also comes from the fact that we've grown exasperated with Stop Sign. Remember her? She's the mother and grandmother of them all. She's responsible for us having 11 cats in the garage in the first place. She herself doesn't hang out here much anymore, though recently she has come around, asking for food. Maybe she has a litter somewhere -- we don't know.
We stubbornly refuse to feed her outside the cages. She, on the other hand, sees us put the food in the cage and carrier, but she wont go in. Even the cats who were actually trapped in these devices have come to terms with them and they freely go in and out. Not Stop Sign. And so our chances of ever catching her and spaying her remain pretty small.
She has grown to be a hissy cat who lashes out at any kitty who comes near her. Does she not remember that these are her children? She ought to be the benevolent matriarch. Instead, she is the cantankerous old hag. Ah well, perhaps the seven cats here who are her actual offspring don't realize that she is their evil mother. Perhaps they wont really need a shrink to guide them through the psychological trauma of being spat at by your own kin.
I do make progress with my photo book. I should finish tomorrow. No, really, I'm getting there!
In the evening, the young family comes to dinner. It's lovely to see them, of course, but it tells you something about this day that we decide to eat dinner in the kitchen. Forget the porch -- too cold. September 8th and I'm already tempted to start the furnace!
Night time comes faster now. The light fades, the farmette animals grow quiet. Eleven cats, six chickens and two old guys, shutting the farmhouse windows against the cold.
No, not today. Better to tidy the farmhouse, eat breakfast in the kitchen...
... then lose myself in this photo book project, before the grains of sand run out and I wind up paying more for the production than I would if I finish up quickly. The sale after all, ends in two days.
The only time we devote to outdoor play is in the middle of the day when we step out to engage the kitties in a little more bonding. This is deliberate: we want to be able to handle the little guys so that we can get them to the vet in a couple of months. Too, it's more pleasant to have friendly cats around than to have cats that are skittish.
Perhaps our determination also comes from the fact that we've grown exasperated with Stop Sign. Remember her? She's the mother and grandmother of them all. She's responsible for us having 11 cats in the garage in the first place. She herself doesn't hang out here much anymore, though recently she has come around, asking for food. Maybe she has a litter somewhere -- we don't know.
We stubbornly refuse to feed her outside the cages. She, on the other hand, sees us put the food in the cage and carrier, but she wont go in. Even the cats who were actually trapped in these devices have come to terms with them and they freely go in and out. Not Stop Sign. And so our chances of ever catching her and spaying her remain pretty small.
She has grown to be a hissy cat who lashes out at any kitty who comes near her. Does she not remember that these are her children? She ought to be the benevolent matriarch. Instead, she is the cantankerous old hag. Ah well, perhaps the seven cats here who are her actual offspring don't realize that she is their evil mother. Perhaps they wont really need a shrink to guide them through the psychological trauma of being spat at by your own kin.
I do make progress with my photo book. I should finish tomorrow. No, really, I'm getting there!
In the evening, the young family comes to dinner. It's lovely to see them, of course, but it tells you something about this day that we decide to eat dinner in the kitchen. Forget the porch -- too cold. September 8th and I'm already tempted to start the furnace!
Night time comes faster now. The light fades, the farmette animals grow quiet. Eleven cats, six chickens and two old guys, shutting the farmhouse windows against the cold.
Stop Sign may be hissing because she's hungry and sees the other cats and kittens as competition. If she does have a litter out there, that would make her even more food aggressive. If she looked like she'd had a litter or if she was overly skinny, I'd be tempted to feed her and try to regain her trust. It sounds like she's figured out the purpose of the cage so she's going to be harder to trap. Pretty sure she doesn't know they're her grandchildren :) Sandy
ReplyDeleteSandy, I don't think that's the way to go. As soon as Stop Sign stopped nursing her kitties, she turned hissy on them. She is by nature ornery and very skittish. She's the type of feral that you could never ever tame. She does not distrust us: she comes to the door to let us know she wants food. She hisses at us only when we get too close on the narrow path, but otherwise, she does know we are her food source. If we fed her outside the cage, she would likely be here more often and she would be constantly at war with the other cats. And there's no reason to believe that she would then follow the food bowl to the cage. We've worked with her for three years now and she has not mellowed with age. She's a cat who, unlike her offspring has always lived in the wild. The only possible solution is that she will be hungry enough to go in to eat. And eventually we'll be able to trap her. It's really our only hope.
DeleteThat's understandable. I'll hope that she gets hungry enough to go in the cage to eat and you can trap her. It is the case that some feral cats can never be domesticated and prefer living in the wild. Hopefully she'll get food elsewhere. Good luck! Sandy
ReplyDelete