It has been very quiet around here lately. At least, cat-wise, it has been. I have been busy with a thousand other things, the cats have been quiet though. I should say, things have been quiet with the ferals. My two indoor, non-feral, cats have been giving me plenty of action. Crash had surgery then pulled his scab off. Muffin has re-discovered the joys of above the refrigerator. Yes, this may all just be a ploy to share the goofy picture on the right with you.
Since my last post Scruffy has disappeared. My hope is that Little Black just chased him away because he was sleeping in the cat house. There were a few times I caught her hanging out by the gate, stationed right in the center of the entrance to prevent anyone from coming in her yard. That was about the time Scruffy stopped showing up. I can only hope she chased him off. It is better than the alternative, which is something bad happened to him. I am slightly nervous that some of the kids in the neighborhood might have hurt him. I also am perpetually worried about the cats being poisoned. I can’t think about that though. He obviously found a way to survive for years before he found me, so I am sure he has the smarts to survive without me. My heart breaks for him though, I so desperately wanted to give him the good life. His sad eyes broke my heart and I hoped that perhaps he could have an easier life coming around to me.
Other than the disappearance of Scruffy nothing too exciting has gone on. I have had sightings of other cats, brief glimpses of cute faces peering behind garbage cans or running down the street. I was quite thrilled to see Poosh hanging out on the sidewalk the other day. It was good to know he is still around, since he refused all my attempts to re-trap him, or even to feed him. Good to know he is finding a way to survive. He still breaks my heart, whenever I think of him alone. I will always feel like I failed him.
I also spotted Cow the other day. For those who don’t remember Cow is the suspected brother (or sister) of the kittens I rescued in the fall of 2010. Mom moved him before I had a chance to trap him or her, and I didn’t think he had made it. I found him last summer and tried to catch him. He scared himself out of the trap just before it closed then vanished. I hadn’t seen him since. Until last week. I also heard reports about a few skinny little cats running around half a block over.
All these cat sightings mean I have to get back to trapping. Getting back to trapping means I have to rearrange my schedule yet again, something that is tricky since I still somehow can’t find time to do the things I want to do. It also means I have to arrange my finances. I have been in a tight spot the past few months when it comes to money and I simply don’t have the cash to pay for TNR, even at the low-cost clinics in the city. One of the downfalls of rescuing cats–its expensive!
I am sure that I have just jinxed myself, writing about how quiet things have been, and will soon have lots of feral cat related stories to share. Who knows, maybe that will feel good, be out there trapping and helping the kitties. Despite the cost of time and money, it might be just the thing I need to get out of this funk.