It seems I have animals on my mind lately. So I wanted to share with you stories of the barn cats I help take care of. Understand, feral barn cats do most of their surviving on their own, I just help feed them. And trap them so they can be transported to have surgery, to be spayed or neutered, depending on their gender. In the past five years I have trapped twelve cats, including my boy, Pan. Eight of those were kittens a few months old. Female cats can actually have four litters of kittens in one year as the gestation period is approximately two months long. A male cat will travel a five mile radius looking for a female cat. So trapping them, transporting them to Alley Cats Advocates here in Louisville, helps with overpopulation of cats. And let me tell you, I have learned lots about cats.

The two cats in the photo above live in the old, red barn on the farm across the road. Sammy and Smoochie are actually brother and sister, from the same mama and papa, only born one year apart. I walk down the gravel road and feed them twice a day. Of course, Reddogg goes with me and both cats absolutely adore him. Sometimes he gives them soft nudges with his nose, other times he completely ignores them.

Two or three years ago I trapped the mama cat because Carla, a caregiver of a hospice patient of mine, wanted to try her luck with keeping her as a house cat. I was fairly talented at trapping a cat because I had been given so many opportunities to practice. I had trapped her once before and she was now spayed. So we agreed, I would trap the cat and meet Carla halfway to her house which was in southern Indiana.

When I pulled up in the parking lot Carla was waiting for me. I opened the hatch on my car and Carla was thrilled the first moment she laid eyes on that cat.

“I’ve already decided on her name.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Buttercup!”

And maybe she did look like a buttercup, with her long, brown hair with streaks of gold mixed in, matching her golden eyes. She really was quite the beauty in a rough sort of way. I was just happy someone wanted to try and care for her. One less cat off the streets with a much better chance at surviving. I told Carla if she had any trouble at all to call me in the morning and I would drive back over and pick up “Buttercup”. We had to meet soon anyway to get my trap cage back to my neighbor. Carla assured me they would be just fine, picking up the cage and cooing to Buttercup the whole time she walked her to her car and placed her in the back seat. I was so happy, thinking, “Man! This is really going to work.”

The next morning, early in the morning, before 7 o’clock, Carla called me. She was crying. Apparently sweet Buttercup had turned into a roaring lion. She had destroyed the bedspread on Carla’s bed, and totally shredded the bedroom curtains. Somehow Carla had managed to get her in the bathroom and shut the door. She had called her son to help her and when they opened the bathroom door, Buttercup was sitting in the corner with the shower curtain lying in pieces all around her. Her son put on large gloves and managed to get Buttercup back in the cage, but not before she had given him one long scratch down his left arm. Needless to say, her son wanted nothing more to do with Buttercup, and Carla felt the same way. I totally understood. We talked about Carla visiting a local shelter to find a cat. Then I placed the caged Buttercup in the back of my car and we drove back to the farm. I parked the car and opened the cage and out she jumped, looking at me with her royal nose in the air, then took off running. She never looked back and I could tell she couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.

I never tried this again. I had learned feral cats are not really looking for an indoor home. But the animal lover in me wishes they were. Of all twelve cats I have helped to survive, only Pan, Sammy, Smoochie, and another cat Simon (who lives down farther on the farm now and that family just loves him) are still around. I am pretty sure the others have passed. It’s not easy being a feral cat. I try not to get too attached, but sometimes I do. Sammy and Smoochie let me pet all over them, because I feed them. They run and hide from everyone else. Sammy has recently hurt his left eyeball. Perhaps something poked him in the eye. I have eye ointment for cats and he lets me squeeze a little from the tube into his injured eye. I hope it is helping. I am almost out of this ointment and will call my vet to see if she will let me purchase another tube. There is no need for me to bring him to the office. Sammy would never let her touch him. Just in case any of you are out there dealing with barn cats I want you to know sometimes the pet stores carry certain medicinal products for cats. I know they have tapeworm medicine you can buy, and then spread a small amount of this ointment on the back of their neck, which will kill the worms. Any cat that is an active hunter will have tapeworms.

And to all you animal lovers out there, thank you for all the positive thoughts and prayers you send out to these beings. If you feed the birds, or feed barn cats, or set out a salt block for the deer, well, good on you! As we all understand winter can be a challenging time for all of them. Just try to remember these animals all have their boundaries. If you forget, like I did, well, I am sure someone like sweet Buttercup will remind you.

c   Love, Joan