Howdy, Kylie –

What!?

Could have sworn you lived in the Land of the Kiwi!
The expression referred to a guy’s ‘manly bits’ (as they call them in England). Sidney ‘s intact, and the neutering fee over here, according to Ruthie, is substantially higher than it is in the UK.

You ask why I want to give him away.

Have been caring for cats for over three decades, and have ‘shot my bolt,’ as the saying goes. Heresy on a website for cats, but there you have it. Everything’s finite. Everything ends. My cats have always cost a bundle. Sid’s meals run about $70.00 a month — and his flea repellent, ear drops, worming pills, etc. totaled close to $90.00 last month. So the costs add up.

Moreover, since moving here nine years ago, I’ve lost eleven cats. Eight were starved & neglected strays, some very ill. I took in the worst for only a day or a week, after which I had them put down to end their misery. The others lasted for some years, but I also helped them toward the end (they were euthanized) because, living outdoors, they picked up diseases from other cats in the neighborhood. One of the cats died in a ditch, for all I know. I fed him well for almost eight years, and tried to tame him, but he always tottered back to his ‘home’ down the road. Last spring a day came when he never returned. Another cat I especially loved – also a stray – had tooth decay several years ago. His extractions cost nearly $900.00, and he died of kidney failure two days later. One of my dearest housecats also died of FeLV, and another housecat of cancer. Last spring, my boy died of old age when he was nearly 22. When I say they ‘died,’ I don’t mean that I let these cats stagger around the house and yard until they dropped. I put them all to sleep.

Don’t know what you think, but I’d never advise someone who lives alone to adopt a cat. My human family is dead and gone, and the people in these frontier towns, as nice as they are, prefer hunting dogs to cats. I.e., they can’t figure out why anyone would mourn a cat. Have mentioned this once before on POC, but when these farmers’ ‘barn cats’ age or sicken, they take them out in the woods and shoot them. Are they monsters? Surprisingly, they’re just hard-working people with limited funds who can’t afford thousands of dollars in vet fees, cremations and urns. They have families to support, which is why they end their cats’ suffering quickly and cost-free. Could you and I do this? Of course not. We’d keel over. But these farmers take what they see as the only way of living on a tight budget. Besides, they’re not really bonded to their cats. They’re used to slaughtering chickens and pigs and other livestock – and cats don’t mean that much more to them.

But as to living alone, something tells me a cat’s death is harder to take than if you have kids and grandkids galore, hordes of relatives, neighbors, et al., slamming in and out of your house all day long and into the night – cooking, laughing and chatting, watching TV. Because when you live by yourself, you come home at the end of the day, turn the key in the lock, open the door and walk into a house that’s silent as a sepulcher. Friends can come and visit you, and you can visit them. And even when you’re home alone, I’m sure you agree there are so many fun things to do – also things that need doing! – there’s no time to feel bored. Yet emptiness hangs in the air. You see your beloved boy or girl’s scratch-post – dusty and forgotten. And you break down.

Were they ‘substitute children?’ I never saw my own as ‘substitutes’ for anything. Unless he is heartless, no human parent is going to tell his adopted son or daughter ‘Don’t you forget that you and I aren’t related!’ My cats were my kids. Bet you felt the same about yours. So yes. It’s painful. As if you didn’t’ know that already.

Is there less anguish if you’re surrounded by family members – human or cat-kin – or if you care for feral colonies? Don’t know. All I know is that I don’t want any more cats. The expense is atrocious. So is the sorrow when they die.

As a footnote to this, when you have cats it’s next to impossible to go anywhere. You can go away for a few hours, but then you have to come home again. Unless you have someone you trust to care for your cats in your absence, you’re nailed down. I’d like to drive to California (my home state) this spring to smell the acacias in bloom, but won’t get to do this unless I can find Sid a good home. His welfare is important to me, but so far I’ve had no luck in meeting a Grade A adoptive parent. Bottom line: I can’t just leave him with anyone. That’s not going to happen.

You’re heading into spring, right? Have heard New Zealand is the most beautiful country in the world.
Stay happy and well, and enjoy your kids! x

Would you like to foster Sidney Vicious for the next 20 years? Can’t keep him. Can’t get rid of him.

As anyone knows, the clergy is a minority – a subculture. So are matchbook and stamp collectors. Peace Corp volunteers. Model train buffs. Teetotalers. Nudists. Parakeet breeders. Protest marchers. Shriners. Spelunkers. Bibliophiles. Greenpeacers. Vegetarians & vegans. People who rescue cats. All are minorities.

But are slackers a minority? ‘. . .the production of unwanted cats at the source – irresponsible cat ownership by a minority?’ [MB]

If you walked them through the ABCs of caring for cats – neutering, a varied diet, ear-mite, flea and worm preventions, vaccinations, medical and dental care, fresh litter, a comfortable shelter – and costs, over the cat’s lifetime, not of hundreds but thousands of dollars, how many slackers would gaze at you with a vacant half-smile and profound incomprehension? Then tell you how much they love their cat?

Conversely, how many responsible people leave nothing undone in caring for a cat they neither want nor love? How many know that love for a cat leads them into wastelands of sorrow when the cat dies? How many are stuck with a new cat they cannot find a home for?

What caregiver with a grain of compassion can dump a cat at a ‘no-kill’ shelter? Or if ‘no-kills’ are a reality, how can he know the cat he’s walking away from won’t sit in a cage for months and years? And unless he’s naïve, what caregiver surrenders a cat to the first comer who offers to adopt it?

For many adopters do not feed cats – or cannot afford – a varied diet. Some also declaw. Neglect to provide the cat with medical/dental care. Shelter. Neutering. Protection from noise and unsupervised kids. Access to sunlight and fresh air. Rescuers know too many adopters who champion the view that ‘a cat’s only a cat! So lighten up!’

And what if a caregiver favors a certain type of adopter: a reasonably learned, peaceful couple, solvent, sessile and committed to each other for the lifetime of the cat?

Would caregivers swayed by this vision inflame potential adopters? Would some tell him what he could do with his cat?

That’s okay. The shelves of supermarkets and feed stores are crammed with high-quality cat food. Vet clinics are crammed with parents willing to spend their last dime on their fur-kids. And many potential adopters have fenced yards or enclosed fresh-air porches.

As for the joys of caregiving, can a cat fill the ‘hole’ in a caregiver’s ‘psyche’ and ‘life?’ [MB] He might to some extent, when he is young. But when he is old, he fills his parent with sadness. And when he dies – and long after he’s died – he fills him with more sadness. Doesn’t suffering build character? Not without the unlimited funds and resilience that power the zest to keep adopting cats.

As for being tied down:

‘The personal relationships of animal rescuers can also suffer. It makes me think. Dedicated cat rescuers are going to have to go it alone because it would seem that there is little room in their lives other than the animals they are rescuing.’ [MB]

Could a lifetime of this mean a rescuer gives a subsequent cat every tangible good that love provides, without loving the cat? Does he feel only a wearied benevolence toward a cat he doesn’t want, but won’t release to strangers? Does he give it a home because he feels this act of mercy is enriching and affordable? What if he feels nothing of the sort? What if he does it because he cares about its welfare? A state of mind akin to love, but light-years from enjoyment.

Potential adopters need to be grilled. The interview can be friendly. It needn’t be abrasive or pliant. No one but those unable to offer adequate care will take umbrage. If the staff is short on time, a caregiver worried about the cat can pay them to sift applicants through a fine-mesh screen. Better yet, the caregiver, himself, might be the best person to interview the applicant. After thirty minutes of this, those with a casual take on adoption would winnow the chaff by walking out the door. But applicants who welcomed the interview and understood its purpose would give the cat a decent home.
__________

So much for that pipedream.

Shelters pass out brief applications. Ask a few questions. The cages are filled. The turnover needs to be brisk, and animals are sold to nearly anyone. Or given the needle.

You want my cat? He has twin kiwi-gonads. White teeth. He learned to use litter box last week. He sleeps in his snuggy-loo in the garage for twelve hours a night.

Nothing to look at by Helmi’s standards. Picturesque, though. A mass of dark brown & golden-brown flecks w/white chest & paws. Left ear droops a mite. No visible scars. Pinned down last week with long-handled fishnet and dabbed with Advantage.

Ate vermifuge pill a few days ago. Stared aghast, but gulped it down when crushed into cat food. Will not touch kibbles. Only canned cat food. Has gained weight. Eats @ 14 oz.+ of cat food per day. No longer feel protruding spine & hip sockets.

Will pay his air fare. He’s yours, if you want him. A dashing little man.

Maybe to be a Cat Foster you need to be more than just a man, maybe you need to have a certain personality etc. Plus the time as well.