8-1-23

As you know, I feed critters at night.  Last night I had not yet gone out with the food when I heard a scratching at the door.  I gathered everything up and expected to see BC when I opened it.  Nope, Three raccoons were sitting there, looking expectantly up at me.  I shoed them away from the door and went out with the food.

A couple of hours later, I looked out and to my surprise, I saw two baby, baby raccoons.  They could not have been even 6 weeks old.  It looked like this might have been their first outing.  But I noticed that most, if not all of the food was gone and the babies were searching for something to eat in vein.
I sighed and gathered up more food.  But when I opened the door, the little tiny babies were right there, noses to the door, ready to come inside if I allowed it.    I didn’t, and quickly just set the food down on the deck, didn’t even go outside.    They are far too friendly for their own good.

All night long I heard growling and arguing outside,    Obvious not enough food is being put out.  But I simply cannot afford to do much more.  They get dry cat food, peanuts and several slices of bread, ripped into pieces.  Plus, any tables scraps that we might have.  We even have someone in the church who drops by every few weeks with a large bag of tables scraps she collects for us.

If I could figure out how to do it, I start a GoFundMe campaign to pay for more food for the critters.  I tried this last week but there seems to be some sort of problem I can’t figure out with the web site, so that’s a no-go for now. 

Ah, and Chance, the rag-doll cat just showed up this morning outside.  Lately I have seen him at the same time each morning.  He has lasted a very long time for a feral. He must be almost 5 or 6 years old by now.  Of course he did get neutered and had all his shots before he got out.  And he is a wily guy.  Smart and good at self-protection.

 7-28-23

The foster cat in the attic has finally decided that I won't hurt him.   He has been frightened and hissing, often turning away when I have tried to pet him.    But yesterday he actually came out to greet me as I came up the stairs.   And he spent time looking out the window while I was there.  That's huge, because He sits beside me and asks to be petted while he watches the birds.   

I try to spend several hours each day with him, to get him comfortable with humans.  He will be going back to the adoption agency in two weeks and I want to maximize his chances of  a quick adoption.  It's a no-kill shelter, but the less time he has to spend in a cage, the better.  Actually, he probably won't be in a cage for much time, because they have nice open rooms where the cats can wonder about and climb.  Then humans interested in adopting can walk in and sit down to see which cat would best work for them.

I am impressed with this particular shelter, called Pet Refuge.  They take dogs and cats and have an excellent track record of placements.  They try to maximize the comfort of the animals, and are very strict as to who can adopt.  For instance, they would never let me adopt, because I already have too many animals for my space.  And they would be right.

On a related subject, Plans for the catio are on hold for another few days until the weather co-operates.  I's been very hot and when it's not too hot, it's thundering and lightening.  Hard to work outside on a ladder under those conditions.  I do tend to get out very early in the morning , which helps with the heat, but not with the rain.

And the birds are still not coming to my feeder.   BC often lays out on the feeding ledges, stretching herself as she bathes in the sun.  This tends to discourage the birds and squirrels.  But I have been feeding them on the roof, which I can see from the attic room.  And the birds do show up for that, but still in smaller numbers.   Having them feed on the roof encourages me to go up there more often so the room gets used and the birds are safer.  So, a win/win.

 

7-21-23

 

BC has always been a wiry cat, slender and graceful, but always looking as if a few pounds wouldn’t hurt.  But ever since her kitten died, she had gotten scary-thin.  You would think that having long fur would disguise her emaciated look, but even so, she looks bad.    The coat itself is lackluster, patchy and pathetic.   I worry about her.

     She first showed up late last summer.   Her coat was beautiful then, long and silky, without a hint of white, pure black.  She was friendly and bright-eyed.  She begged to be petted and was grateful for the food always left out for kitties.  But when it started getting cold, I invited her in.  She wanted to come.  She pawed at the door.  But then she saw the other cats and she freaked.   She hissed.  She ran away.  Several time I tried getting her inside where it was warm, but she was having none of it.  She did not like or trust other cats at all.  Even on the coldest days she would come close, then flee as it being chased by the hells of Hades.  She would have nothing to do with those of her kind.

        I put up a shelter for her which she ignored.   She moved in under the porch.  Sadly, she became a very good hunter, taking down the birds, sometimes in mid-flight.  I had to put up all sorts of protections around the feeders.  That helped the birds and she made do with the dry food I left out for her.    Then, mid spring of this year, she suddenly showed up with a tiny kitten, a beautiful gray stripped bit of fur, name Tony, because we didn’t really know the gender. 

        Tony was a trip.  More personality than the law should allow.  And Tony and BC were beautiful to watch.  It made your heart melt to see them together.   Tony slept curled up with his mother around him.  They played wonderful games.  He explored with wide eyes the whole back yard.

        Originally, I had planned on trapping the kitten, taming it and finding a home for it, but after watching the two of them,  BC and the kitten, I decided that I needed to trap both of them, neuter them and move them back into my yard.  They needed each other.  I have never seen two cats who did so well together.  Little BC, who hated all other cats had finally found her soulmate.   She must have been very lonely before.
        But then the accident happened, and Tony died.  BC mourned for days.  She called for him, kept on looking for him.  Then she disappeared for more than a week.
        She is back now, still friendly, but painfully thin.  The spark is very low in her.
        I had started feeding her canned cat food when I first saw the kitten, have a can per day.  But now, with her being so thin, she gets a full can.    Ironic, the feral cat gets better food than all my indoor cats – and they are very well aware of that.
        This morning, she fell on the food as if she hasn’t eaten in days.  So thin.   I petted her as she ate, but there was no purr.  She was slightly desperate to eat, so I left her to her feast.   Other ferals came in for breakfast, she hissed at then, protecting her food, then disappearing for the day.
        My heart aches for her, alone, solitary, thin.
No cat, no human should ever be alone like that.

 7-18-23

BC, our beautiful long-haired black feral cat, has moved back into the yard.  She left when her kitten died.  It  was so painful watching her call for him, looking for him.  She disappeared for quite some time, but now she is back, sitting on the bird seed ledge, scaring away the squirrels and birds. 

I don't know whether to be happy she is back or annoyed.

While she was gone, I did see Chance, another beloved but long-gone feral.  He looked well.  I still miss him and curse the day he was put outside.  But he seems to have moved on.  He just returned for a snack.

Anyway, BC has now hopped down gracefully and gone under the deck.  So the squirrels are back, two Blue Jays are feeding and a female Cardinal is eyeing the peanuts.

I am hoping the Sparrows will return.

 7-15-23

Lately I've been sleeping late, almost until 7 am so days..  The critters outside are not happy about that, because they have to wait until I wake up to get fed.   I feed them the night before but by sunrise, the food is long gone.
This morning after I put out the food, I looked back and already, there were two feral cats waiting for BC to finish and a hungry raccoon had stayed up well past his bedtime to get in some extra dry cat food.  I suspect it is slim pickin's for raccoons these days, because there are so many of them.  I wish I could put out more for them but my budget is limited.

As I type this, the afternoon shadows are deepening.  It's been a sunny warm day but ahead lots of rain is expected.   The critters have made short work of most of the food from this morning, but still, very few birds today.   I miss them, but it does make it easier for me to talk myself into going upstirs into the attic which is now my art room.   There is no way to watch the critters from up there. So I am not tempted to spend time gazing out at the beautiful wild world of my back yard.

      I love creating both Celtic Knots and Mandalas.  And sometimes, I'm not sure I think they are all that different from one another.  Perhaps they are Spiritual Cousins in the art world.     

      This is one of my favorite Celtic Knots.   It evokes all sorts of things for me, sunsets and sunrises, nature, trees, the Earth herself.    

 

 

 7-13-23

 Last night I forgot to feed the night critters until after it was dark.  I prefer to go out while it is still light for many reasons, not the least of which less chance of trippage.  But I forgot until it was very dark.  

I loaded up the food bowl and cracked open the door.  Three raccoons were waiting on the deck, watching the door expectantly.  When I opened the door a little more, two of them scurried under the deck.  But there is that one lone raccoon who has decided that I am safe.  That's bad news, because humans are never safe for wildlife, especially intelligent wildlife.  I scolded him as I came out, hands full, juggling bowls of food.  I warned him of the unreasonableness of humans, how they will trap unwary critters and take them to strange and far-off places.  

He simply did not believe me, nor did he care.  He eyes were trained on mine, not on the food.  

Thee more raccoons were on the ground.  Altogether I saw at least five raccoon but maybe there were seven, all about 8 months old, no parents in sight.  They have been fed in my yard their entire life so they are all regulars but I have not been told what their names are.  They prefer to remain anonymous.  Yet they come by, several times a night, checking back to see if magically, more food has appeared.
And sometimes it does.