The capture of Stubby Tail
With all the rain, it has been hard to feed the outside cats. I can’t take all the outside cats that I feed on yerida, as much as I’d like to, but I made a promise to one three years ago and I intend to keep it. She was an owned cat and when I first met her she had a long and full tail. She was a lovey little creature.
I’d moved into the apartment only a couple of days when her previous owners and previous renter’s of the apartment above me knocked at the door. They had a plastic grocery sack about a quarter full with dry food in it. The apartment they’d rented was empty but had been sold. They’d been knocking at doors and trying to find neighbours who would agree to feed their cat for a week to a couple of weeks until they could come to collect her and bring her to their new place but thus far without success. I agreed, of course.
I thought about bringing her into the apartment at that moment but I had 14 cats completely freaked out from their move and was worried about the introduction of a new adult cat. I can’t forgive myself for what followed but I seriously can’t forgive her “owner’s.” They assured me she was an indoor but mostly outdoor cat and would be just fine solely outdoors for a week or so. They never came back and she was not an indoor-outdoor cat. She was an indoor cat.
She haunted the front door and ran inside at every opportunity, racing up the stairs to sit and cry at the door of the apartment above mine. I fed her outside until the food ran out and called the number her “owner’s” had given me but the folks who answered claimed no knowledge of any cat and said they’d never lived here. Non-cat-friendly neighhours began to complain about her.
It took her about half a year to figure out where my apartment is and to stop going to her old front door and to come and wait outside mine. She wanted to be petted, picked up and held and cuddled. We had one couple in the building who seriously hated cats (thankfully no longer here) and their cruelty toward her, with kicks and throwing things at her, raised the ire even of the neighbours who had complained about her hanging about the door and dashing in at every opportunity. Even with their meanness toward her she was still so trusting.
Then, last summer, she went missing. When she came back, after several weeks, she was skeletal thin, missing the top half of her tail and with the remaining extremely infected, most of the hair skinned off. She had also gone from trusting and cuddly to ‘don’t touch me.”
Yesterday, I opened the door to find her sitting just outside ready to run down ahead of me to her outside feeding place. Instead, I ducked back in, grabbed a cat carrier and a can of food, came back out and as soon as I put it down, in she went. I shut the door and brought into Tovi’s old room. I thought I’d leave her locked in the carrier for a bit as I cleaned the metal slide out bottom of the cage again and got it set up for her move in. About two hours later, while the bottom was drying, I heard her crying and went in to check on her — she had gotten the door of the carrier open and was sitting up on the windowsill! Thankfully, as soon as I did get the bottom in and covered with newspaper, a litterbox, comfy cuddle bed, and food and water in it, in she went quite happily of her own accord.
This morning she was curled up like a little princess on her pink and white bed and actually purred and let me pet her as I gave her a breakfast of wet food. She seems happy as a clam in there. I’ll get a picture of her in her new abode up later. Kitty number 20 is now safely inside!