Managing A Feral Colony Can be Stressful

Managing a colony of feral cats can be the most rewarding experience. It can also be super stressful. As regular readers know, my feral colony is a colony only in the loosest of terms. There are a number of cats roaming my neighborhood, and I cannot locate where they live or who is feeding them despite numerous neighborhood flyering efforts. I know one yard in which they like to live, but there are more cats in the neighborhood than I can find in that yard. So my “colony” sorta takes over the neighborhood. Since they are so loosely distributed around the neighborhood it is very, very challenging to trap them all. I have gotten those I can, over a dozen. There are more out there though, and I don’t know where they come from, I will see them once a year or something like that. It also doesn’t help that the two who have taken up residence on my deck have decided to chase away anyone else who shows up to take the bait in a trap. Little Black considers it her food, which is why I have trapped her half a dozen times.

Caring for ferals also provides another challenge. The neighbors. I have convinced a few of them to accept the cats, but most of them are just not down with it.  There are comepltely understandable reasons for not enjoying feral cats in your yard, I get that people don’t want cats using their yard as a bathroom, etc.  It gets stressful trying to keep cats out of yards, trying to locate the rest of the neighborhood cats and trying to keep track of the two who live on my deck. Today added a new stresser. I went outside to feed my two regular girls, and heard the most pitiful meowing emanating from a neighbors yard. It took me a while to locate the source of the meowing, I could tell it was coming from a yard but I couldn’t find the cat. Here I am on a cold Sunday morning walking down the alley in my PJs and boots, peering through neighbors fences to find the cat. I eventually went back inside to put on warmer clothes and cover up my mess of hair. On my second round outside it dawned on me that the meowing was coming from the neighbor’s garage. Sure enough, I managed to spot my handsome Marius, a cat I trapped last year, sitting by the window meowing his little head off in the most pitiful way.

I hate talking to neighbors about feral cats. I hate it. It took all my energy to go next door, ring their bell (at 10am on a Sunday morning!) and tell them they have a cat in their garage.  Fortunately she was very nice, and I am really hoping I didn’t wake them up. She told me she knows, the cat has been in and out for the past two weeks. They think they have a hole in the garage where he manages to sneak in, he will go out and then somehow end up back in the garage. She asked if he was mine, I said no, and decided against explaining feral cats right then and there. It was cold, her and her son were in their PJs and I had interrupted their quiet Sunday morning, not to mention all the things I had waiting to do. It just didn’t feel like the right time. Now however, I am worried about Marius and my two girls hanging out in that garage. I don’t like the thought of them over there, especially now that the house (which had been empty for almost a year) is being used again.  I don’t want anyone getting locked in where they can’t get out, I don’t want them to piss the neighbors off and have CACC called on them, or worse have TWO neighbors who are annoyed with me. I realize I can’t control what they do, they are wild cats after all. I just wish they would be like other feral colonies and pick one spot to stay! I realize I will eventually have to talk to the neighbors about ferals in the neighborhood. Just gotta brace myself for that and come prepared.

This is Marius last year when I trapped him.

On the positive side, it is nice to know Marius is still around. When I trapped him I wasn’t sure he was feral and I tried to socialize him. He sat in the dog crate in almost the exact same position for 24 hours. Didn’t appear to use the litter box, didn’t really eat. Wouldn’t do much of anything. I finally decided it was too much for him and let him back outside. The fact that he hasn’t gone very far and was vocalizing like he was, raises doubts again. He made it a year though, so that’s gotta be a good sign.

Wordless Wednesday: Feral Friends

I want to be a cat writer!

I want to be a cat writer!

Part of me finds the previous sentence to be absurd for various reason. First, it is just an odd thing to say. Second, I already am, to a certain extent, a cat writer. Third, it is a bit of an odd title. What, you may ask, caused such an epiphany? Surfing the internet.

I was browsing different hashtags on Twitter for a homework assignment when I stumbled across this fabulous blog post  titled “Why don’t people spay/neuter their pets?” I was fascinated by the article, and when I skimmed the rest of the blog, I was quite astonished to find it is dedicated to cats. My first thought “but that’s what I wanted to do!” BJ Bangs’ blog, Paws for Reflection, is exactly what I dreamed Tails from the Street would be. I am inspired and just a tad bit jealous.  I am also inspired and excited by the existence of the Cat Writer’s Association Inc. The association is “an organization of professionals writing, publishing and broadcasting about cats.” God, could it be that maybe this was fate calling me? I can only hope. After all my biggest passions are cats and the written word. I have always said I would love nothing more than to write about cats (hence the creation of this blog)

I have been struggling this year to create regular content for my blog. I have been struggling to maintain my relationship with the feral cats in my neighborhood and to keep up with attempts at trapping. I have been struggling to find time to write Tabitha and Dundee Boy’s story.  Hopefully this can all change in the next few weeks. I am going to find the energy to make it happen, thanks in part to a fateful search on Twitter and a like minded blogger. Simply writing this blog entry makes me feel like an amateur, compared to some of the things I have seen on Paws for Reflection. I will stay excited about this though and work hard to improve my blog and its content!

I feel like I imagine the kitten feels five seconds later, when he realizes he is still just a tiny kitten.

A Nice Problem To Have

One of my goals for 2012 is to read 50 books this year. I have already read three leaving me 47 more books to read. Which depending on the mood I am in is either a great start or a hell of a lot more books to read in a year! As I was thinking of all the books I need to read this I decided it was a great idea to pull all the books off my shelf that I have not read and make a “to read” pile. I know lots of my friends have these piles. So I did. I pulled all the books off my shelf that I haven’t read yet. This is what I got.

That's a lot of books!!

That pile doesn’t include a few books I have in my “reading” pile, or the books on my Kindle. As I type I am thinking of a few shelves I forgot to pull from as well, so lets add at least ten more books to this pile. I think I have enough books here to read the rest of the year. Problem is I bought some of these books years ago and for whatever reason didn’t get to read them right away, and now have lost interest in reading them. Which leaves me with a conundrum. Do I read the book just because I bought it? Or do I skip it and move on to other books I really want to read. What about the books I want to re-read? Life isn’t long enough to read all the books I want, or do all the things I want to do. So where do I give!?

This would all be so much easier if I could just retreat to the woods for a few weeks and do nothing but read. Would that be allowed?

New Year’s Post

Well here it is, 2012.  A time of fresh start right? I never understood why we use the new calendar year as a time of fresh starts, it seems so arbitary to me. So I usually use my birthday as a time of fresh starts. After all my birthday is when I got my real start!!  Fortunately my birthday is in November, so I kinda get to start at a new year, and honestly everything gets put on hold for Christmas anyways (and finals many years). So while I may set about making my changes in November, I don’t actually start making them, for the most part, until January.

Having said  that there are a few things I want to actually do with the new calendar year as well. One of those is to get more active with my blog. I loved the month of NaNoBloMo, it was great getting feedback and knowing people were reading my work! I am not a big person for goals, they can make our focus too rigid and cause us to lose sight of the truly important things in life, but I have a few goals for 2012.

• Read 50 books
• Finish writing my children’s book
• Improve my time management
• Blog every week
• Improve blog, and interactions with other bloggers.
• Create/find a balance in life between work, school, cat rescue, social life, and Katie time. (this one is gonna be tough, so many things I “have” to do, want to do, and “should” do, just not enough hours in the day for them all!)
• Establish an exercise routine. If I happen to lose weight in the process all the better, I just need to take better care of my body/mind.
• Be a better friend/girlfriend.  (I thank my friends for sticking around, I know I haven’t always been the best of friends and have been a little, uh, difficult? this past year.  My friends, especially my B and M are so important to me, I don’t know where I would be without them and will work so hard to be more contious of my behavior/interactions with them. I hope they will gently kick me if I do certain things again.)
• Take risks and step outside my comfort zone
• Be more aware of my thoughts
• Be happy, have fun, and make the most out of my short time on this planet.

I would also like to find some time and money to take a vacation, maybe visit my family in California again. This will depend in part upon finding a decent job and my old grandpa-cat’s health. So many things to do this year! Perhaps I am setting the bar too high, another thing I need to work on this year. Ah well, step by step I will figure this crazy life out. Let’s hope this year gives some good insights.

Blessings to everyone, may 2012 be a wonderful year for all of us!

Conservation, Feral Cats, Heros and Conflict

Whoever thought that I would be so conflicted reading a book by Dr. Jane Goodall? Dr. Goodall is one of my heroes, her determination not only to protect the wild places and animals of the world but also just to continue her research in the early days of her career as a scientist. I admire and respect her dedication to all the animals of the world and to spreading the message of conservation to humans throughout the world. And her ability to find hope in the face of so much destruction and the uphill battle for conservation.

I was lucky enough to attend a lecture of Dr. Goodall’s in May of 2010. It was fascinating and inspiring. I bought most of her books and had her then most recent book Hope for Animals and Their World: How Endangered Species Are Being Rescued from the Brink autographed. I even got to take a picture with her! She has done so much for animals the world over, I was thrilled. I am in the process of reading Hope for Animals, and while it is inspirational to see the work of so many dedicated individuals the world over, it has caused some problems for me as well. The main concern is the role of cats as predators in so many of these stories.

Cats, introduced as non-native species to islands including Australia, have been detrimental to species such as the Mala or Rufus-Hare Wallaby in Australia and a number of flightless birds on tropical islands such as the Galapagos. They have proven to be a particular problem with the flightless birds who have never learned the flight-or -fight instinict essential for their survival. Dr. Goodall shares a story of how a cat on Stephen’s Island, New Zealand, “killed all eighteen of the last Stephen’s  Island wrens known to science, and laid them at its owner’s doorstep.”* Reading that I envisioned my two feral girls depositing mice on my deck and even attempting to bring me a baby bird. Unfortunately the cats, mostly feral, of these islands have caused so much trouble that those dedicated to restoring the endangered bird population and securing the habitat for these birds have had to remove the cats, and many other invasive species. In  this case other species includes pigs, goats, and rats. Even more unfortunate is that in these cases “remove” is synonomous with “kill.”

Reading the introduction to the fourth part of Hope for Animals I found myself upset and  torn. Dr. Goodall writes about her mixed feelings at first, how it is unfair that these cats and other innocent animals brought to the island against their will have to be killed for only done what they are programed to do–survive. She writes how she has always advocated for the individual, “but after learning how some of the efforts to save the very last members of an amazing and unique species–such as the kakapo or the Zino’s petrel–almost failed because of cat predation” she had to “rethink my position.”** Dr. Goodall also writes that “sterilization, as sometimes practiced with stray dogs and cats, simply wouldn’t work [...]“***

This leaves me heart broken. I have spent so much of my life working to rescue cats, to promote the use of TNR and advocate for the rights of all animals.  How often I have fought the “bird people” who say that feral cats will destroy native bird populations which are not endangered, and here I have a leading conservationist telling me a story of a cat wiping out the last members of a species! I cannot reconcile my believe and support of TNR with my support for keeping endangered species alive.

I know from first hand experience that I can’t save all the animals. In the end this comes down to a humans trying to fix the mess other humans got us into–over population of cats, introduction of invasive species, hunting (by humans and animals) of species till they are endangered, and overall poor management of the planet we live on. But the bleeding heart inside of me can’t help but cry at the thought of all those other innocent animals–cats, pigs, goats etc–being killed. Especially the cats.

This concern brings me, in turn, to the thought of how some people work so hard to bring a population back from extinction, increasing their numbers to a more sustainable number, while others of us work so hard to reduce the number of a population–namely dogs and cats–so that THEIR population is sustainable and thousands need not be killed needlessly each year. What a mess we humans have, in part, created. As I said above it all comes down to humans and our clumsy and often ignorant management of the planet we have. We have destroyed and exploited the natural resources we have been given so that we can survive and expand, something we have done far too well. We have killed thousands of millions of innocents along the way (human and animals), and exploited others to meet our needs better. We have, for the most part, been horrible stewards of the one planet we have been given.

I intend to look into why sterilization of feral cats and dogs on these islands won’t work, I would assume the basic principle of decreasing numbers eventually leading to no more kittens and thus a colony eventually dying out, would hold on a tropical island as well as in the heart of a busy city.  But I will also assume, because I have to for my own sanity, that the experts have tried this and not just ruled it out by default. I also realize that these island situations are different than situations in America and Europe because cats were introduced by humans and the wildlife had not evolved to survive preditation from animals such as cats. Part of me wants to say “Well it’s survival of the fittest. If those birds can’t adapt then they deserve to be wiped out.”  We can’t let that happen though, not when it was humans fault in the first place.

I know I am not going to have a resolution to my internal moral dilemma anytime soon, but I would be fascinated to hear what others have to say. I request only that all comments be respectful.  I am including a link to the website for Alley Cat Allies, the nation’s leading advocate for feral cats. Their site has articles discussion predation by feral cats in America, and their role in the environment. You can visit the website for the book Hope for Animals here.

*pg 225

** pg 225

*** pg 225

Sam

Tiny Kittens

I have two “pet” cats who are 16 years old. They are in every respect my babies, they have been with me since they were 8 weeks old. A little over two years ago their brother died, very suddenly and unexpectedly, in his sleep. It was one of the hardest days of my life. That’s him at the top of my blog. My big brown Sammy baby. His full name was Uncle Sam and he was the most personable cat I have ever met. I loved him with all my heart, and I will forever be grateful for the 14 wonderful years I had with him.

He loved people, anyone who would touch him but especially my uncle who is allergic. Sam loved to get his tummy rubbed, he loved to barge in on you when he needed attention. He also loved to cause trouble if he thought it meant he would get attention. In his book any attention was good attention, even if he was getting yelled at. Which he was, quite frequently.  While he was the sweetest cat at home–we joked that if someone broke into the house Sam would have asked the robber to pet his tummy–he was a wild beast at the vet. He occasionally had to be sedated to go to the vet, though we didn’t stay with that doctor very long. He did require staff to wear “battle gear” thick falconers gloves and a muzzle on Sam.

Look at that cat! Seriously, how could you resist that belly?

Shortly before he died he was diagnosed as hyperthyroid. His brother was already hyperthyroid so I figured giving pills to two cats wouldn’t be a big deal. Boy was I wrong. Sam could be difficult when it suited his needs, and being difficult for medicine suited his needs quite nicely. Oh could that cat find interesting ways to not take a pill. There was one morning I was pilling him and his brother and I remember thinking to myself, “I can’t keep doing this twice a day for God knows how many more years.”  When he died I wanted to kick myself for saying that; I would have done anything to have my Sam back, even just for a short period so I could properly say goodbye to him. (I was at work when he died, I got the horrible phone call from my mom in the middle of one of the craziest and most understaffed days I can remember, then had to drive home in rush hour traffic bawling hysterically the entire time).

Losing Sam was one of the hardest things I have had to deal with. Thinking back on it though, I am glad he went when he did and how he did. He died peacefully in his sleep, most likely from a heart attack.  He didn’t suffer. I didn’t have to make a decision about letting him go. He went when it was his time. He didn’t have to suffer from disease or go through medicines twice daily for years on end. I was thinking about that tonight when I gave his brother and sister their sub-q fluids. I couldn’t imagine having to give Sam fluids, he would have been horrible for it. It would have stressed both of us out. It would have been too much–for him and for me. So while I miss him horribly at times, and would give just about anything to hold him in my arms one more time, I have to try being grateful for simple things. Grateful he didn’t suffer and linger in a long illness. Grateful that neither he nor I had  to go through the stress of hydrating him or more frequent trips to the vet. Somehow though, this all just makes me feel guilty.

Had to sit in the chip basket before the chips went in.

Finding My Purpose

Ever have that feeling that you just belong somewhere? Or know, deep down in your soul that you were doing what you were meant to do? I have, and it is a wonderful feeling.  Yesterday I spent the entire afternoon volunteering with different rescue groups.  It was a long, busy night but it was so wonderful. I felt like I had a purpose again. I did something of value that helped kitties, even if I wasn’t directly working with the cats.

Part of this joy simply came from being around like minded people. People who love cats, who want to make a difference in the lives of needy animals and who are passionate about rescue animals. Part of it came from doing the work I am meant to do.  I spent the second half of the night at a planning meeting, explaining social media strategies and  coming up with a plan in place for our future social media endeavors.  Since this is partially what I want to do for my livelihood, it was great to know that people actually consider me skilled in this field. It was also great to apply it to a cause I feel so strongly about.

It is just refreshing to know there is something I am good at and someplace I belong; especially now when life is so crazy and uncertain. It is good to know that even when it leaves me sad and burnt out, animal rescue really is my passion and my calling. It is good to know that I belong somewhere.

 

Animal Welfare vs. Human Welfare

Disclaimer: The thoughts below have not been fully developed in that they are still slightly confused in my head. It is a debate I have been having for years with no satisfactory answer. Also, I am tired, it is late, and my thoughts on the topic are still confused, therefore the writing below may not be as clear as I intend.

Tonight I was at my friend’s house and we watched Rent.  It is not my favorite musical, though there are some great songs in it  and a great message. How does this relate to cats you might wonder. Well, as you may know if you have seen the movie or the stage version, the story revolves around a bunch of bohemian types, and some of the “slums” of New York City, the homeless, the poor, the drug addicts etc. As I was watching the movie I was thinking how hard life is for some humans. At one point I realized that my cats have a better life than some humans. And I was moved by that. I mean, even my ferals have it pretty good. They have a dry place to sleep; they have adequate  shelter from wind, rain and snow; they have soft blankets; they have heating discs in the winter; they have two regular meals a day. That is a hell of a lot more than some humans have.

My two inside babies, they have regular qualtiy meals, a nice big house, soft beds, regular health care and more. When I realized that my cats have it better than some humans, something which I have thought of before, I was upset. I mean how can we justify animals living a nice cozy life when some humans have to go to bed cold and hungry every night? I firmly believe I am doing the best for my cats and giving them the life they deserve. And I know taking away from them wouldn’t give to a human who has nothing. Just as my giving to the cats doesn’t take away from any humans. But how does our society get to the point where we can give diamond studded collars to pets yet we can’t provide for all the humans in the world. Hell, we can’t even provide for all the pets born in our country which is why thousands are euthanized each year.

I know there are no easy answers to this conundrum. In fact there probably aren’t any answers (well spaying and neutering pets would be a great place to start on the animal side of things). Some people have always had little and been forced to live a rough life. Other people have been blessed with an abundance (some a larger abundance than others). It is every human’s right to spend their money as they see fit, provided they don’t cause harm to another human. I have come by my money through hard, honest work, and I can spend it on whatever makes me happy. In my case that just happens to mean improving the lives of animals and occasionally humans.   Nevertheless, I can’t help but feel there is something wrong with a world where some animals have better lives than some humans.  Perhaps I just dream of a utopian world, where no one goes without, but what’s wrong with that? Isn’t it the dreamers who make the world a better place?

Discoveries and Ongoing Battles.

I have done a lot of thinking in the past few weeks. Back in October I was informed there was a chance I was going to lose my job. I was heart broken, because I was finally doing what I have dreamed of doing for years–communications for a nonprofit organization. True it was not an animal rescue organization, but it was something I still cared deeply about. Over the seven weeks I nervously waited to hear my fate I did a lot of thinking. To summarize I realized just how much I miss rescue work. Not just the physically being out there trapping cats (because that can get super frustrating, I actually kinda hate trapping…) but being in the field in general.

I miss helping cats. I miss making their lives better. I miss having dozens of cats around me at all times (though that will change when I start back at the vet’s office).  To a certain extent I miss being in the trenches too, because when you are in the trenches you can see the results of your hardwork immediately. Of course it starts all over with the next cat or the next situation, but there is still that feeling of accomplishment. I am not sure I am meant to be in the trenches but I know I am meant to be rescuing animals. I also know I am meant to write. Since childhood I have had two strong passions–animals and the written word. What better than to combine my two true loves?

One of the stunning babies being fostered by Virtually Home

Last night I was at a planning meeting for a small rescue group I am involved with called Virtually Home. Unlike many resuces in the city, Virtually Home has no shelter building. They are a series of foster homes where the cats live until they are adopted out. Many of the cats are pulled from high kill shelters throughout Illinois or Indiana. It is a great organization and I am relishing the opportunity to use my gift of writing to help them share their message with the rest of Chicago. I can’t wait to get started!

I also signed up to be volunteer at my favorite shelter doing development work again. I have this nagging sense that I jumped in too deep already. But it will be great to be back at the shelter.  Of course the trick will be not taking on too much and  avoiding the evil known as compassion  fatigue.  Which means finding a balance in my life between rescue work and something else. Let’s see how this goes.