Monk

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It felt as cold last night as it has yet this year, and when I saw Calico with the other three cuddling together on the chaise lounge, I didn't have the heart to go out and take the trash out and collect the plate. It helped that the plate looked practically empty. Ratso could have the rest.

With a little precipitation and fog this morning, we are warming up again, and all the cats are furiously running around on the patio, working up an appetite for the morning chow.

A little love sweetens the day. Bo is still hanging tough. No morning turds. I've taken the habit of taking him out on a bathroom run in the small hours of the morning, which should help. And we just greedily share what love we can while we can.

xXx

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Professional bird-watcher shoots and kills cat. Is it animal cruelty?

The case has prompted emotional commentary on the Internet. Cat enthusiast blogs have called Mr. Stevenson a “murderous fascist” and a “diabolical monster.” Birding blogs have defended his right to dispense with a “terrible menace” and have set up funds to help pay for his defense.

One of the many things I love about this article is how the case may depend on whether the cat was feral. Talk about hitting home, eh?

( article )

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Calico sits a few yards from the shed, just staring at it,
as if willing the kittens, Salty and Pepper, to come out and play,
but to no avail.

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The mutilation and killing of felines in San Antonio has reached an unprecedented level, officials say, with 11 incidents reported over the past three weeks.

. . . "Someone is displaying them," Animal Control Director Jeff Hale said of the felines, adding that the department is investigating Wednesday's killing as the latest in a string that might have been committed by the same person or group.

-- Colin McDonald for The San Antonio Express-News

Of course, now we would be suffering a wave of these animal cruelty crimes, when I have taken a heartfelt interest in our cats. Just play with my heart, why don't you?

At least we're armed.

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I was able to make it through the night in just sweat pants and a T-shirt, with the windows shut of course. I think I'm going to try to make it through this cold snap without pulling the heavy blue blanket out of the closet. After this week, it will probably get warmish again. Like I said, it's only fucking October.

I'm glad to see that Calico and Mother Grey are both up and eager for breakfast. Indeed, now Calico has followed Grey in taking to the chaise lounge at night, albeit more balled up in trying to conserve body heat. God, how I hate the thought of winter. But if feral cats can make it up north, in the snowy and icy north, shouldn't San Antonio be like a balmy holiday?

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Taking a look at the back to see how the cats are doing, Monk is shocked to see a gaping opening in the fence, right where the cats like to play. One of the boards of the fence had been removed. Unsure if it is just paranoiac energy, he suspects that one of the school kids saw the cats and tried to grab one.

He was glad to see that all the cats were there, but he needed to cover that opening, not wanting one of the kittens to get out and get lost. At first, he got one of his old posters, and took it apart to use the hardboard frame. When he went outside to get to work on it, he saw the half-board that had been broken off and decided to just nail that back in place.

Unfortunately, this hammering apparently spooked Calico and she was gone. When Monk finished nailing the board back in place, he heard the neighbor dogs barking furiously in the Neumann yard. Worrying about Calico, he took a look, and he froze at the sight.

Calico was standing atop the wooden fence, with the huge boxer-like dog barking and bounding up on the fence at the cat. Calico was frozen looking down at the dog, with the fence shaking from the dog's attack. I think there was another dog on the other side of that fence. Calico was stuck on the high wire playing without a net.

Monk yelled in what one would think has to be a vain attempt to shoo the dog away, but it actually worked. The dog backed off, and then retreated all the way into his own yard. Calico stayed frozen where she was, though she looked in Monk's direction. He was thinking that Calico should be able to make it even if the dog came back, but Calico apparently didn't like the odds.

Monk went to see about getting into the Neumann yard, grabbing the nail-stick on the way. Instead of going in and taking his own chances with the huge, young dog, he banged on the fence to get him away from Calico, and Monk kept the dog occupied for a minute or so.

When Monk went back and took a look, he was glad to see that Calico was gone. But he didn't have any idea where to. She apparently didn't come back to our yard. But he was relieved to see her later in the evening, hiding by the a/c fan.

Can't you tell who your friends are, Calico? But I guess it's a very dangerous world, nine lives or not.

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With others working for The Times in Baghdad, I took solace in the battalion of cats that had found their way past the 12-foot-high concrete blast walls that guard our compound. With their survival instincts, the cats of our neighborhood learned in the first winter of the war that food and shelter and human kindness lay within the walls. Outside, among the garbage heaps and sinuous alleyways, human beings were struggling for their own survival, and a cat’s life was likely to be meager, embattled and short.

Cat populations in the wild expand arithmetically with the supply of food, and ours multiplied rapidly, with as many as two or three litters at a time out in the shrubbery of our gardens, or beneath our water tanks.

-- John F. Burns for The New York Times

Mr. Burns gives up a new and endearing angle on the Iraq war. Apparently, people are being overrun by cats even in Middle East wars. In light of our own recent experience with cats taking over some of our territory and playing on our affections, I bear a special appreciation for this story.

( cat story )

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Out front with Bo on the post-breakfast rounds, I take a peek through the fence to look for Calico, but make another stunning discovery. I see more cats crawling out from under the shed! as though it were a miraculous cat-making machine. It looks like another mother grey, with a white and a black kitten. The kittens are as playful with the mother as were our first batch, bringing back some pleasing memories. But what are we to do with more cats!?

What did our cats do? Put up a poster announcing available space, secure from dogs, readily available food? Is there a CraigsList for cats?

In truth, there was a flutter of giddy excitement at seeing the kitties, but this is overcome by the specter of being overrun by an endless succession of cat litters, including the issue of how the cats will deal with each other. Although I have worried about Calico being lonely, I don't want him to feel threatened and overcome, as I hold out some hope that he can parlay his experience here into an advantage over these other cats and he will be respected.

But what are we going to do with these cats, and what will be Pop's reaction?

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I hope you like cats, because there is a story going around that one of the effects of global warming is to lengthen their mating season, so that we may be getting more of them. I'm sympathetic to Jacob Grier's thought on this development:

Global warming leads to more cats. That’s the claim of Pets Across America, who says warming has lengthened the feline mating season. I’m normally opposed to taking drastic action to fight climate change, but if this dubious claim is true I might have to support some massive CO2 reductions. Or perhaps we could just use the excess kitties as a source of biofuel? Whatever’s cheaper.

This does sound like more of a wake-up call to me. If your heart hasn't gone out to the languishing, soon-to-be-extinct polar bears, maybe this will move more people to go green.

Of course, I kid cat lovers. Now that we are feeding a few feral cats, I have become a little fond of them. They are incredibly cute critters, and I imagine it is even better when you can, like, actually pet and play with them. Still, I don't think dogs have to worry about losing their title to being man's best friend, unless you include strippers in that competition.


(Source: Jacob Grier Blog)

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I had to take Bo outside into a rainy morning. I don't suppose I have to tell you that we need another rainy day about as much as Bill Gates needs another million dollars.

I thought that the morning might be a little easier with respect to the cats, at least. In the past, when it is raining, they have chosen to stay hunkered down and skip the chow. When I first gave the back yard a look, letting Bo lie down dead for a while longer, I didn't see any cats, and figured we were staying true to pattern.

However, after I brought Bo back inside from our rounds, I gave the back one more good survey, and there he was. Calico caught my eye. He was on the patio, sheltered from the rain, sitting beside the trash can, obviously hoping not to be forgotten. It was a close call, buddy! Maybe you should give out a little meow next time.

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