Meow - the Next Spring
Fri., March 1, 10:38 AM
There were cats around our garage all the time. When I opened the door each the morning to pick up the newspaper, I was surrounded by cats. They didn’t leave me be until I fed them; on garbage pick-up day, I never would have been able to carry the trash out.
We automatically checked them whenever we drove up so we’d be sure not to drive on them. There was no doubt about it: Dos-a was definitely looking larger than Tres-i. One day in the spring I checked to see Precious, Uno, Dos-a and Tres-i on the pavement, and then I noticed a pair of eyes peeking out from under the steps. Who are you? Dos-a had presented us with three new ones.
The distribution was the same, one black and two grey tabbies. Borrowing loosely from the Sneaky Pie Brown series, we named the black one Tucker and the tabbies Murphy and ’Puter. My daughter decided to tame this litter from the start. She started by feeding Dos-a and then, having gained her trust, began picking up the babies and holding them for a while. It worked on some better than others. Tucker allowed us to pet him until he was injured somewhere and then he became very fearful. ’Puter never became friendly, but Murphy winds around my legs when I open the garage.
The original cats like Smoky, and their mother never chased him away. But they don’t like Not Smoky. Poor Not Smoky is very frightened of people, as if he remembers being beaten. But he is also afraid of all the other cats, even the babies. They would not let him eat.
So I began putting out a separate dish for Not Smoky, and each morning I chased away the other cats so the poor guy could get a little food. When he got used to being fed, I tried to pet him, but he always ran away. After a few months, he let me touch him just a little, and finally allowed me to pat his head each morning. And he got a little bolder and sat on the porch when he expected food to come out.
One day our indoor cat, Hey Boy, got outside while Not Smoky was guarding his spot on the porch. When we opened the door for Hey Boy, Not Smoky came in too. Of course, he was disoriented and very scared and ran around a lot before he hid under my daughter’s bed. Soon the room smelled of frightened cat. The more we tried to get him out, the worse it stank.
We tried to tempt him with food, we put up a trap, and nothing worked. He didn’t eat. He stayed there for a week! At last my daughter grabbed hold of him. He scratched and bit her and ran out into the bathroom. She ran in after him and shut the door. Then she opened the bathroom window. Not Smoky got up on the window sill and jumped out the window.
It is a ten-foot drop, but he didn’t get hurt. When I looked out, he had run away. We didn’t expect to see him again.
Next time I put out food, there was Not Smoky waiting with the others. He even tried to come inside again! Maybe he liked being warm so much that he didn’t mind being scared. But he certainly had been scared. I didn’t try to touch him; I thought he would still be terrified. But he stuck his head under my hand for a quick pat before he ate.
There are mornings when I look out the window and see as many as ten cats sitting in rows, as if they’re in church waiting for the sermon. The cast of characters changes constantly. I haven’t seen Precious in a long time. Uno was gone for some time, but he turned up with a sore leg. Evidently, when they can’t hunt for food, they still know where the suckers are.
I haven’t seen Smoky for several months, but Not Smoky sits there eying my little girls. I’m worried…
