Tuesday, December 07, 2010

Black Cat Three


First Skinny Bear. Then Coyote. Now...well...I think I've run out of names. I called her Porch Kitty when I named her .jpg for her photo.

I've seen her around for a few weeks, but I thought "she" was a "he." She got in a hellacious fight with Bear up in the garden. I've seen her out the fields at the neighbors. She was peering in the window one day, and I was able to leave her some wet food on the porch one night. She ran away, but came creeping back later to eat it.

Tonight I dished out some turkey stew for the cats and for the most part they turned their noses up at it. They aren't big on people food. I looked at the big plate of cat-licked stew and figured I'd take it out to the porch to see if the black cat might come by. It was windy, cold, and snowy outside, and I immediately noticed cat tracks. Good, s/he'd been by!

Then something came yowling out of Bear's cat shelter at a run, winding around my legs. It always amazes me how these cats play shy for months or weeks, and then one day say "ENOUGH!" and come running up for help. Surprised, I set the plate down, and a pretty, plushy, but skinny black cat tried desperately to decide if she wanted to be fed or petted first. She would turn and wind all around me after grabbing a mouthful of food. I copped a feel under her tail and determined that she was going to be a $150 cat instead of a $70 cat. Alas.

What to do with her? I had just emptied the cage in the lower barn. I had just introduced Coyote to the cat facility cats and she was doing well. Her cage downstairs had been empty two whole days.

I brought Porch Kitty into the bathroom and sat down with her. She was mad with happiness. A peek at her teeth showed she was a couple of years old. Coyote's mom, maybe? The two of them abandoned together? Then I saw the ticks. A tick on her chin. One by her ear. Uck! Outside with her! I pulled the ticks I found off with a tick-twister. I carried her down to the barn and we shut out the winter. She explored the downstairs while I set up the recently vacated two-level cage that Coyote had been. I plopped her inside with food and water and went to the house to warm up a Snuggle Safe for her. It beat being out in the howling wind and snow.

Then I came in, threw my clothes immediately into the washer, and took a shower.

I've been toying with the idea of some "BurmaShave" type signs along my road, dealing with abandonment. I think it's time. With my luck I'll probably get cited for illegal signage.

If you can think of any ditties telling people why dumping cats on struggling farm owners is irresponsible and illegal, please leave your poetry in the comment section!

5 comments:

georg said...

Call her Portia.

If your cats
you must heave,
Knock on my door
before you leave.

(although that suggests that you want to take their abandoned cats)

Connie, Orlando said...

Cats aren't trash
To be dumped as you dash

That's the best I could come up with. Poetry isn't my thing. I'd prefer: Dump your cat at your own risk. You'll be shot on sight.

possumlady said...

Please don't dump

your cats

it's just plain cruel

and thats that

***************

How about naming her Coal in honor of the holidays and winter

georg said...

Abandoned cats
don't hunt rats.
Fur gets mats.
Bears eat cats.
Wolves eat cats.
Ticks eat cats.
Fleas eat cats.
Cars hit cats.
Is this what you want?

meowmeowmans said...

We'll spare you our sad attempts at poetry. But we are glad that skinny little one decided she'd had enough, and came to the realization you are a friend.