Saturday, June 03, 2006

Skeeter, or "the things we do for love...."

I fear we may have another cat.

For a few weeks my husband would see a dark flash down by the chicken house as he came out of our house. We knew there was a little stray about but hoped she’d wander on.

It sounds harsh, but harsh are the people who drop their animals off “in the country” for the coyotes and hawks to kill, and for them to be totally unprepared for life in the wild.

They drop them off in winter when everything is frozen and there isn’t even water!!! Never mind food. They drop them off in the heat of summer too.

We see them in the ditches sometimes and it is no life for a domestic animal, and yet we can’t take in every stray. We have our own animals that we are responsible for. We see them where they’ve been hit by cars too.

Well, a couple days back she moved up to the house and is yeowling. She is pathetic. She is horribly thin, and has a tiny, warped, malnourished little body. She is that very dark brown and orange brindley colour, which is why I think she is “she.” There is no size to her at all. I wonder how young she was when someone discarded her. She has a sad little bent tail that probably was broken in another life not too long ago as I believe she’s still a kitten. She may be in heat, oh joy! We always have our own animals neutered and chose not to acquire more than we can care for. We did not choose her.

But we have put out food and water. We can’t just let her starve.

I wonder if she was someone’s pet. Would a cat that was completely feral crave human companionship? That is what she wants. She won’t let me touch her but she is managing to get closer, and I can tell she wants to be near.

I spent more than an hour today sitting out in the lawn chairs sweet talking her and dangling my fingers down near the ground and she even managed to jump up in the chair by me ever so briefly. I talked to her and talked to her and assured her I wouldn’t hurt her. I think she's been hurt before. She has probably been chased or kicked. Twice she gave my fingers a tentative tap. This is real progress, but I really don’t need, and I really don’t want another cat.


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