Anni endured the antics of her younger brother Chessie with a generous spirit that found her regularly grooming him and tolerating routine ear nips and high-speed chases throughout the landscape of their home like cheetahs on the Serengeti.  Always up for playful experiences, she never met a soap bubble she didn’t pop, and she never walked by a paper bag without either crawling inside the comforting envelope or prance-dancing on top for the pure joy of the crinkly music.

Grand Dame Annabella was also a fervent art lover. Her favorite artistic hangout was the kitchen tabletop working space at DJ Studios, where she joyfully embraced the paints and papers and brushes and pens with even more appreciation than she expressed for the final artistic results.  Anni also inspired great poetry and contributed to poems about other domestic and wild creatures simply by the keen sensitivity of her larger-than-life animal presence.

Annabel Lee is survived by doting CatMom DJ Gaskin and little brother Cheshire, as well
as countless friends and admirers. Her loving and adventurous spirit is deeply missed by all.

I had given them names/non-names, fed them, arranged for winter water and food, complete with doghouse (I have no dog) to brave the coldest months, a shelter that included, of course, a heated pad.

Ok…. I helped this tiny family survive a crazy winter, but for what?… MamaCat got With Child again come early spring, and Thing 2 – soon known as BabyCat since Thing 1 disappeared, she the remaining baby cat – became a feral teenage pregnancy statistic.

MamaCat’s belly shrunk though babies were never seen, then Mama disappeared into feral anonymity.  Baby – now MiniMama? – had 3 kittens under a neighbor’s deck, then kept moving them around the neighborhood – underdeck to underdeck, under a BBQ grill cover, then over to my doghouse, then back to another neighbor’s underdeck… no clue where they ended up. A sad season of kittens.

Baby/MiniMama came around for food occasionally, sometimes with the babies, but became less and less regular. I know there are other neighbors who care for these poor feline souls, and I see fewer and fewer feral cats roaming these couple blocks of our neighborhood, so someone, somehow, or multiple someones, seem to be taking care of these homeless creatures and I’m feeling less guilty about my inability to do much if anything to help.

And, I’m worried about the birds and the chipmunks.  My NWF Backyard Wildlife Habitat has grown more and more unkempt as I’ve tried to accomodate these crazy little packs of cats, even while not sure I was doing the right thing (with which I still struggle). Now, I long to reclaim the entire yard as a bird sanctuary, where the catbirds, the chickadees, the cardinals, the wrens, even the sparrow – and also the little chipmunk family – all feel safe and can take food and water unthreatened. I want to rip out the deck, put in some natural stone pavers, and tame some of the out-of-control plantlife.

So… once this heat wave eases up, I hope to find a good landscaper to help me revamp my little back yard into something that honors the wildlife I so love while giving them, and me, safe sanctuary there.

Other poems you’d like to hear?

The kittens enjoyed their heated doghouse.

Thing 1 poses for her winter portrait.

Thing 2 is just as photogenic.

Meanwhile, something strange is going on here. Various very large punk-cats have been spotted hanging out near MamaCat. Just as I was getting used to the husky gray, another day along came a black & white Tom looking just as tough. Then last night’s bed-check resulted in a near-panther size black cat scampering up & over the fence. None of them seemed to covet the warm quarters that my three enjoy. They just hung close to Mama… some kind of courting maneuvers? Could she be in heat already with two just barely roaming on their own now? Oh my , I so wish I could have gotten help for her by now.  Ok, so the holidays are nearly over – I should be able to find some support soon. Somebody’s got to help me trap & neuter all these kitties soon before our neighborhood’s 20-some colony is suddenly 50 or more.

1__The couple inches of snow last week was just enough to test the feral family’s new doghouse. Its raised base and sloped overhang at the door proved perfect to keep the cats cozy dry, if not totally warm, in at least a minor snowfall.  

2__As for the warmth, I have a heated doghouse pad on order, along with a switch that turns it on only when it gets to 35 then back off again at 45.

3­­__Mealtime in snow proved not a big challenge. Placing the food dish under the patio table keeps the food fairly dry and the cats as well.  Their water dish is frozen, but the kittens are big enough now to line up behind Mama at the bird bath. They stretch up from the bench beside it and, leaning on their fourpaws, drink quite comfortably. And the birdbath heater keeps the water from freezing even at the coldest weather we’ve seen. In the huge snowfall last year, it was the only thing visible in the yard short of the trees.

MamaCat on a snowy cold roof

I am still waiting for expert guidance from the two feral-cat groups I’ve contacted and am disappointed to not hear a thing in so long. I can only imagine they’re all very busy, but I plan to call them next week. Meanwhile, I’ll just keep caring for these poor little creatures as best I can… which, btw, has become more pleasant. Mama rarely hisses now and Thing 2 (the gray one) lets me pet him… and scratch his back… and his ears… until he purrs… and rolls on his back in trusting glee. Seriously! And all this in front of MamaCat.  She seems to want more of me too, in her own distant way. Saturday morning, when she couldn’t get my attention ground-level at the glass doors off the living room, she leaped up from the fence onto the roof and made her way up near the second-floor window off the loft space I use for an office. I heard her meow and found her out there looking into my window.

Roam if you want to!… the ferals’ expanding territory.

They roam.   It’s in their nature.  It’s also in my nature, much as I try not to, to feel a wee pang over MamaCat’s efforts at weaning not only her little ones but me as well. The message is clear: the kittens are now old enough to jump the fence and discover the world beyond.  And I am old enough to know better than to get attached to stray cats.  Btw, I remain frustrated at being unable to hook up with the proper people who can help me corral these poor cats for neutering. Meanwhile, they roam. Who knows where.  I fear for the kittens’ purity.  Still, I know it’s what they do. 

Kittens' First FenceWalk

It has become so very very cold here and it seems this little feral family has found warmer nighttime quarters (I have a doghouse heating pad on order!).  In my feral-cat research, I learned that cats will overcome their territorial loner tendencies during the cold of winter and come together for sleep and rest time, huddling close wherever they can find the warmest place that will accommodate the size of their local colony.  I envision this huge spotted/tiger/calico pile of cats, shifting positions through the night to share the warmest spots.  Whatever keeps them from freezing to death sounds fine to me.

So, “Roam if you want to!” I say to the dark night when I get home late from work and they’re not there to meet my dinner delivery.  Just come back for breakfast. They usually do.

Well, you know what’s coming. But the universe was looking out for me that morning. Things could have been so much worse.

Instead of heading straight onto the highway, I had changed the start of my commute route that morning to stop at the drugstore for chapstick – which I sorely needed in all this sudden whipping cold air. I thought I might also stop at the gas station nearby to see about that low tire. Well, Billie (my blue Beetle’s name) decided I needed to make dang sure I checked that tire. It blew. Billie and I hobbled along on 3 tires and a rim the last two blocks to the station.

Sadly, the clerk had bad news: no mechanics until 8am; it was 7. As I stood there contemplating starting my day on Starbuck’s WiFi, in came the shop manager, who had spotted my three-legged car, and said, “I knew there was a reason I came in early today.”

Before he set to work on changing the tire, he cautioned me that spares generally weren’t full size and would certainly not tolerate my 30-mile commute into Maryland. And this station didn’t carry tires. But, Merchants Tire is just another block up and they open at 7.  As I stood there contemplating starting my day on Merchant’s WiFi and holding meetings on my cell phone, out came my angel mechanic, with good news: my spare was full size. I had his blessing to drive to work. And no charge.

I missed no meetings that morning, and the spare’s holding up fine.

So, I’ll get a new tire on Saturday and put my lucky spare back in the trunk for another semi-unfortunate day.

A flat tire is no day at the fair. But, things really could have been so much worse. I could have started out on the highway instead of the neighborhood shortcut and ended up shivering for an hour or more, traffic whooshing by, waiting for AAA. I could have been delayed another hour if that mechanic hadn’t come in early. I could have been delayed another hour or more if my spare wasn’t full size. As it happened, this inconvenience totaled only about 30 minutes.

Oh!…and did I mention?…that service station sold chapstick.

Now, nearly a couple months in, I seem to be growing on my little feral “family.”  When the weather was warmer, I’d sit on a bench in the yard, or on the edge of the deck, and just talk quietly to them, and watch them… a real delight.  That kitten exuberance!  Even MamaCat – still young herself – displays a youthful energy and joins in the chase around the yard when I’m not out there with them.  They’re now used to my presence. The  babies come running up to my feet every time I open the back door. And, Mama tolerates my presence much more amicably, still reminding me who’s boss with an occasional hiss, while still allowing me to herd them all over toward the food dish.

A few weeks ago, when nighttime temperatures were threatening to drop to near freezing, I took them an old towel and, while they were busy out in the yard, settled it under the low plastic stand that had become their favored shelter. The next day, with rain in the forecast, I added a big plastic trash bag situated over the little tabletop and down a bit on all sides.  The rain still left their towel – and them too, I imagine, soaked.  So I brought them a fresh towel and hung the wet one up to dry in the breeze. The drying towels soon became a playground for the kittens – they climbed them, rolled in them, wrestled in them, until the towels the kittens all lay in a heap on the ground.

Thing One and Thing Two enjoy the cat playground that is my deck.

Watching them from inside has been a pure delight.  The little ones exploring the yard, tripping over planters, falling off the deck, chasing a confused squirrel, chasing each other then coming together in a roll and leap like a kitten explosion, climbing a shrubby tree then tumbling down head over feet through the branches… mama always nearby.  I’ve watched as they’ve used my little crape myrtle to practice their climbing skills, and observed a first fence-walk, balancing precariously behind Mama.

MamaCat occasionally comes up to within a foot of the glass doors when I’m standing there. I’ll kneel down and we stare at each other. She just sits there primly, calmly, staring, unblinking. Is she trying to understand human kindness? Wondering how much warmer it must be on the other side of the glass? Or, aghast at my keeping two cats like her locked inside this big cage called a house?  She has seen me pet and play with Anni and Chessie and I wonder how strange she must think that is, this direct and voluntary connection between cat and human.

In case you’re wondering: Yes, I am looking into having the cats trapped and neutered.  I called the county animal control office and they advised me that unless the cats are in some way a clear and dangerous threat to the well-being of people or their pets, they do not get involved.  Wandering cats are not illegal in our county, they tell me.  The animal shelters will accept strays, but they too do not go out capturing them. There are small volunteer groups here and there, that are kept quite busy with the growing feral cat population in the area, so I would likely be left to trap them myself.  I found a small volunteer organization that conducts classes on the “Citizen Humane Feral Cat Trapping and Neutering Program.” They even loan you the traps.  And then I injured my back and missed the class.  I’m waiting for their next class and have also contacted a neighborhood contact who started a group for us to help each other deal with the feral cat problem (it’s rampant).  It’s very sad, and animal lovers cannot bear to leave them to completely fend for themselves, starving or freezing to death.

Winter is approaching.  I bought them a dog house. And put in fresh towels.

I’m still pondering how to feed them in the snow.  Any suggestions?