AppleTreePets: Day Twenty Two

Fancy

I've mentioned that Eli was the first cat to ever live with me longer than 24 hours. His presence in my life was foretold, and the journey to him being a member of the household was not without drama. But this post is about another cat. One who literally came to me out of the blue...Fancy.

I was very happy with a one-cat household. Since I knew little to nothing about cats, Eli was a perfect "first cat." He even put up with being a show cat for awhile to please my little granddaughter. I knew even less about feral cats. What I did know about was feeding hungry creatures. My vet would roll his eyes at this because he thinks I "over feed" but, oh well. . . So, when a mother cat started bringing a kitten around, of course I fed him. I would see her first, knowing the baby wasn't far behind. She would "drop him off" at our house, then run and hide. I would take food out and he would peek around the corner of the porch and wait until I went back into the house before he would eat. The little guy was clearly hungry, but he always left some of the food. Within a few minutes of him devouring his meal, the mom cat would come around to finish what was left.

Of course, being clueless, I had no idea that word was getting out among the neighborhood animal kingdom that I was an easy mark. Pretty soon there were possums and raccoons and various other creatures coming around to be fed. To my husband's dismay, I was more than happy to feed everybody. A life is a life. Hunger hurts. It's a good thing we don't live in an area populated by bears. People who put up bird feeders with hopes that squirrels won't eat the food, too, crack me up. His point was valid, though (curses...) He was the one who rescued a baby possum from the Frenchies. And one of them almost lost an eye when a larger possum with very sharp claws showed her who was boss. I hate it when my husband is right.

So, I did some research. I learned about feral cats and how important it is for wildlife to find their own food. I should have remembered what happened ages ago when I rescued a baby robin that had fallen from its nest. I thought I would take care of it for awhile then let it loose. I was so proud of myself when I drove to a bait shop and got a container of live worms. Gross as it was, I fed those worms to my baby robin. He grew. And grew. Then, his feet started to curl and he couldn't stand. I took him to a vet, who first gave me a lecture on letting wildlife take care of itself, then explained why the bird was palsied. He wasn't absorbing nutrients. You see, if I had been a proper mother bird I would have chewed the worms first then regurgitated the partially digested matter to my baby. The vet kind of figured I wasn't going that route, so he recommended feeding canned dog food. Voila! Baby robin's feet straightened out and he grew to the size of a pigeon. He would sit on my shoulder on the front porch and fly back and forth to a tree and my shoulder. He always came back. One night, he didn't return and a storm kicked up. I ran the neighborhood, in the rain, calling him until I heard his scared chirping. He came right to me and we went home to get dry and safe. He stayed with me for quite awhile until one day he flew away and never came back...

As with so many things in my life, first I try, then I screw it up, then I learn how to do it the right way. I learned that ferals are classified in degrees - from those that can become domesticated to the true ferals that do not ever want to be housecats. Ferals are actually beneficial in keeping down rodent populations. Ferals are territorial and keep other ferals out. So, the smart thing for a neighborhood to do, if they have a colony of ferals, is to TNR - Trap them, Neuter them then Return them to where they were found to live out their lives. To properly care for ferals, and keep other unwanted creatures from coming around (yes, I typed that but I have issues with it...) a feeding station is set up. Food is put out at regular intervals, then put away once the cats have eaten. Water is always available, though. This is the "right" way.

I am not one to love an animal, then turn it loose to the outside world. If I could have figured out how to bring my horse into the house, trust me, I would have. I know how truly awful people can be. And accidents happen. We live close to a highway, and I see too many creatures who had no chance against a speeding vehicle. But, I knew the kitten was starting to like me. I tried to put a wall around my heart in case I never saw him again. My husband was the one who suggested I do that. I would go outside, and hear the kitty calling me from the vine covered wall around the back of our house or the top of an oak tree out front. He started to trust me and got a little closer each day. I really wanted to bring him inside but had no clue how Eli would react. To make a long story short, it took about a year - for both of us. He didn't know what to expect on the inside, either. Patience paid off. By the time he did muster up the courage to come in, he and Eli were so used to each other, it was no big deal. He learned how to use a litter box and figured out where the treats are kept. He could easily slip through an open door if he so desired, but has no interest in leaving the house - ever.

But, the "feral" is still in there. He is on guard all the time. I mean, one never knows if a hawk might fly through the living room! Or if the guy on the loud mower won't just plow through the window some day and mow us all down. Fancy will jump onto my lap, but scope out the area for awhile, just in case. He cocks his head to listen for any danger - after all, he battled snakes, you know. Despite getting puh-lenty of food, he still thinks it could be his last meal, so he must eat all of it, as well as whatever his foolish brothers leave behind. He trusts me enough to roll over on his back and let me pet his stomach (without the cat curl of death!) And I can now trim all of his nails at one time instead of just one a day. He loves me. And I love him. I don't play favorites, but he is unique. I think of him as another person, so it's ok.