Holidays and the Indoor/Outdoor Cat

My cats go outside for various reasons, which I’ve explained in previous posts. Most are happy to stay in my backyard which is bordered by cat fencing.  Others, have circumvented the cat fencing and roam the neighborhood and woods.

But on holiday weekends, everyone stays indoors. They don’t like it, it’s hard on me, but that’s how it is.

We live in a lake community with about 40% of the homes owned by Out of Towners who only show up on weekends and some only on holiday weekends. Weekends aren’t wonderful in the summer for the cats generally, but holiday weekends like this one are terrifying for them and me.

For example, on Memorial Day weekend, 4th of July, and Labor Day most of the Weekenders bring their dogs, which they let roam the neighborhood at all hours. We have no leash laws in our rural county, so there’s no way to stop them other than to take their dog to the animal shelter, but I wouldn’t do that.  Most are nice dogs who already live with cats, but they come up to my yard to sniff around, etc.  So the cats stay inside.

Then every night over the weekend, the Weekenders shoot off fireworks. They’re illegal in my state but not in the state next door and the state line is five miles away. That means Weekenders and Locals alike stock up on everything from your basic noise maker to Roman Candles to actual fireworks they shoot off from their docks.  There aren’t enough DNR rangers on the lake (it’s a huge reservoir lake that borders six counties in two states) to catch them all.  As as soon as the sun goes down, the sound of firecrackers popping  and other sorts of fireworks exploding in the night sky can be heard like it’s in your own backyard.  The noise freaks the cats out, especially Cody.  So the cats stay inside.

Just the sound of my very nice Weekender neighbors next door, who love cats and dogs, scares all of them. So, rather than have them hiding under the deck or someone else’s deck or off in the woods somewhere..the cats stay inside.  It’s extra cleaning of the litter boxes and other upsettednesses (is that a word?) but they’re safe and most importantly, I don’t worry about them.

This weekend, I have further complicated matters by taking in a foster dog for the humane society. I 6lb Chihuahua mix puppy who likes to chase cats..no one ever told her not to, so there’s a learning curve there.   So the cats stay in the back two bedrooms with an extra tall baby gate across the hall.

Come Tuesday, life will be back to normal..sort of …the Weekenders will be back home and the neighborhood will be quiet once again…except for the foster puppy, but I don’t expect her to be here very long and I do expect they’ll get used to each other in time

Another Life Saved

It’s kitten season throughout much of the country so with all the tiny babies needing new homes, it’s heartening to learn of the adoption of an adult cat this weekend whose time was up on Saturday.

For those who don’t know, kitten season is that time of year, usually from early spring through early fall, when female cats are having their litters. That means tens of thousands of kittens at animal shelters and humane societies across the country needing homes. Only about 1% actually get adopted and only about 1% of those actually find what we rescuers call, “forever homes” where they stay their whole lives.

Kitten season, also means, sadly, that most adult cats in shelters (and by adult I mean anything 6 mos old and older) stand little chance of being adopted.

Such was not the case however for this guy, now named CoCo.  Coco was one of three adult cats in the cat room at our local animal shelter amid a sea of kittens under 8wks old. Because he was unneutered, CoCo did not get to roam the cat room, but has spent most of the past month confined to a small holding cage.  Our rural shelter doesn’t get much by way of cat adoptions to begin with because most of the farmers around here already have barn cats and most of the kittens in the shelter come from those barn cats. Most get shipped to other rescue groups where they have a better chance of finding homes.

Coco didn’t stand a chance really of being adopted. Until last week when a coworker of mine asked me to help he and his wife find a cat. They specifically wanted an indoor/outdoor young adult and emphasized they did not want a kitten.  “If you know of any, let me know,” he said.

I knew of Coco and the other adult cats at the shelter and told him adopting from a shelter is better than getting a free cat because the adoption fee includes the spay or neuter and a rabies vaccine in our shelter’s case.  For $45 you can’t go wrong.

Friday came and I took Brian over to the shelter.  Of course, all the kittens came running, mewing and climbing his pant leg, but he was immediately drawn to CoCo..a chocolate Siamese or Balinese mix with light green eyes. He took his picture to send to his wife, then went to the office to learn  more about him.

“We’ve had him a month so he’s scheduled to be put down on Tuesday,” the shelter manager said. “We’re open tomorrow but closed Sunday and Monday so his last day is technically Saturday.”

On Saturday, Brian’s wife drove down to the shelter and adopted him.  They’re novice cat owners, but I believe they’re going to grow very attached to this calm, sweet boy who’s already trying to sleep on the bed with them.  “He’s already well trained, but he’s not allowed on the bed,” Brian told me this morning. 

‘That will change,’ I thought. ‘Just give Coco time.’

Happy Wanderer

Spring is here in full force in NE Georgia and the kittens are having a great time exploring for the first time the wonders of butterflies and bugs, the smell of newly bloomed flowers and a strange contraption in the backyard called a water fountain.   So far, Jasmine, Jade and Eddie have not had any real inclination to go further than their own backyard, which “mom” is grateful for because with the warm weather comes the certain knowledge that one cat, MaeMae will be disappearing for days, even weeks, on end.

MaeMae (the cat whose image is at the top of this blog) comes from a long line of country barn cats and trying to deprive her of her instinctual love of hunting in the woods, would in my opinion, be cruel an unusual punishment – but that doesn’t mean I like it.

I would rather have her be like my other cats, content to stay in her own yard during the day and coming in every night where it’s safe – away from coyotes, away from raccoons, and other predators, animal, human, and mechanical (cars). But, as this photo shows, she quickly figured out how to get over the cat fencing..and taught Binky (the cat below her) to do the same.

In fact, I’ve tried to keep her inside..but it turns out badly for me, the house, and the other cats with whom she starts picking fights.  For me, it’s the constant howling to go out, for the house it’s destruction and inappropriate spraying or pee’ing. So she wins.

MaeMae came home this morning after being gone almost two weeks. I know where she goes..it’s not far…just to the neighborhood behind our house and down the hill. It requires going through some empty, wooded lots and across a lake cove, but she does it. Then, for a week or two, she doesn’t come home, she doesn’t answer my calls for her, regardless of the weather.  I’ve seen her down in the yards of the homes along the cove. I can stand four feet away from her when she’s in hunting mode and call her name and she ignores me.  I have to actually go pick her up to snap her out of it, she’s that focused. 

Happily, my neighbors along the street below me all know her now and none mind having her around. In fact, I think she probably “shacks up” at someone’s house down there because when she does come home, she’s always clean, hasn’t lost any weight, but she’s always happy to be here.

This time, she was gone for almost two weeks and once again, as I usually do, I had given her up for dead; not expecting to see her ever again. I had called for her three days ago – standing at the edge of the woods, calling her name so loud the neighbor’s dogs came running.  Nothing. ‘That’s it,’ I thought last night when I tried calling her again from my back deck. ‘I’ll never see her again.’

Then this morning, she came bounding in with the other cats who had gone into the backyard for a quick potty break after sleeping inside all night. Crying, tired and hungry, she ate three bowls of canned food. Then proceeded, as she always does when she comes home, to meow as if to tell me about her adventures down below. It takes about an hour for her to calm down, but eventually she collapses either on the sofa or next to me as I write. 

Sweet dreams, little Mae. It’s good to have you home again.