A Plea for Help

To our dear Cat's Meow Feline Rescue friends,

A plea for help – to all of you who have supported Cat's Meow Feline Rescue in every way - we thank you from our hearts, we are more grateful than words can say. Presently we are in desperate need of donations, volunteers, and most of all adoptions for our nearly 100 residents.

As you may know, our primary caregiver Lora Michael has been hospitalized recently and is not able to care for our residents. A few more gracious volunteers have joined to help us continue to care for our many cats. Although we are not accepting more cats, we are committed to caring for and more importantly, finding forever loving homes for every one of the ones we have.

We need homes – and we need them NOW! A plea especially to those of you who have adopted your best friend from us – would you please kindly consider adopting another loving companion? Another Kit in your Kaboodle – another Meow in your Mix! To those of you who have always wanted to adopt, this is the time! Perhaps you know of someone who has been thinking about adopting their next best friend! Together we can assure a long happy purrrfect life to another beautiful feline, who is sure to bring pleasure as well. We are waiving our usual $75.00 adoption fee – good will donation - no heartfelt offer refused. A LOVING HOME is priority – needed TODAY!

Please email us, or call Cheryl 847-404-5146 for an immediate response, or leave a message at 605-745-3593. We are happy to make appointments at your convenience. Meanwhile take a peek at some of our adoptable cats: www.petfinder.com zip code 57747

Thank you again for your support over the years. We could not have provided a safe haven without you – YOU are the Cat's Meow!

Love and gratitude,

The Cats and The People of Cat's Meow Feline Rescue, Inc.

CatsMeowFelineRescue@yahoo.com

Donations: Cat's Meow Feline Rescue, Inc. 27442 Red Fox Road, Hot Springs, SD 57747

CAN YOU SAVE ME FROM LIFE IN A CAGE?         PLEASE HELP RESCUE ME TODAY!

Hello Again

Today, five days after his disappearance, our alley cat re-appeared. We were leaving the house to meet a friend for a meal, and there he was, meowing at our back door. Now I know he did not vanish because of "catting around" since he is now an "it."

So the mystery remains. Where was he for almost a week? Bob believes that he was locked accidentally in someone's garage. Could be. I know for now it will remain a mystery, but thank you to my friend who emailed me that he would return. You were right D......He returned, for better or worse. He is back in our lives once again.

Welcome back, mysterious cat!

Those Mysterious Cats

It is the first day of February and the sun is rising as I raise the shades in the bathroom window facing the back deck. The black and white cat is not peeking in the window.

"Where is he?" I wonder. Every morning for the past year and a half, rain or snow, he has greeted me impatiently on the railing overlooking that window. "Meow, meow. Feed me, feed me."

When I got to the back door he would be scratching on the screen, "meow, meow, meow." After he downed his bowl of food he would follow me out to the chicken coop, whining for attention, jumping over the wooden fence, perching on the gate, harassing the chickens, then retreating between my feet when one of the hens would chase after him and give him a peck on the nose.

He would follow me back to the house, circling around, blocking my path by stopping in front of me, slowing my progress toward the house. Morning, noon and night he would be there to greet me, arriving or leaving. He was our "porch cat" ever since his mother, Skitty, never returned for her daily food.

He was a constant companion when Bob was out weeding the lawn or clipping the bushes, rubbing against his legs, crying for attention, when not otherwise occupied with chasing leaves or mice.

He was not a nice cat, bullying his mother and other strays from coming to our door. Our yard had become his territory for stalking birds, mice and squirrels who dared to venture too close. But I was responsible, after all, for his very existence since I had neglected to spade his mother in time and she delivered him to our back door in late Spring of 2014.

As to his mother, she vanished from our lives a few months after bringing us her baby and this last Monday, Muddy, as we named her baby, also disappeared. I can only suppose as to his certain demise. Was it the dogs let loose after dark by careless owners, too preoccupied to walk them on leash, another cat, tougher and more brutal, a trap set out in the neighborhood, or a car racing thoughtlessly through the night?

I drove around the neighborhood that day, searching. He never wandered far from our block. I guess alley cats have a way of appearing, then disappearing as secretly as they come, never to be seen again.

I can only hope that his ending was not lengthy or painful. Muddy was not a very pleasant cat as his mother was, or loving or gentle. He was demanding, pushy and self-centered, but he was there each day when I raised the shades and there each evening meowing for food. He would follow me on my walk, but only to the edge of his turf which amounted to a block. His absence is felt, and this surprised me. I never thought I would miss an alley cat, but I do, just as I missed his mother when she vanished from her daily visits to our back door.

This morning I saw cat prints in the light drifting of snow in our back yard. Just guessing, but I suppose I will be greeting another new arrival seeking food and a friendly greeting. After all, our territory has opened up and there are fat, furry mice lying in wait.

The Pied Piper

Remember a previous blog about our front porch and back porch and the cats inhabiting both? The back porch was occupied by two alley cats, one of which has been with us since November of that bitter cold winter of 2013, and more recently, her black and white kitten, born before I had the opportunity to get her mother fixed.

The neighbors obese white cat lies on our front steps, occasionally walking around to the back porch to enjoy the cat food Bob puts out for the two alley cats. She needs none of it since it is obvious that she is well fed by our neighbors across the street. It appears that she likes to shove our more timid cats out of their dishes and take her place as the most dominant of neighborhood cats. (In other words, she is a bully).

Bob and I have grown fond of all three cats. They have become part of our lives and require little upkeep as they would if they were our inside cats and demanded litter changes, hair clean up and special treats.

As I glanced out of our side window today I saw Bob walking along our sidewalk with a rake, tending to outside tasks, while behind him frolicked two cats. As they neared the front porch, the white cat joined in the procession. Bob, intent on his yard work, seemed oblivious to his following.

The old fairy tale came back to me as swiftly as the three cats passing by the window. There was the Pied Piper of Hamlin, followed by the cats. Thankfully, no rats! We have none of those critters since the cats took up residence in our back yard.

I don't know about any of you, but I much rather prefer the cats to the rats, or the mice. I do miss the birds at the feeders I no longer keep filled, but there is nothing perfect in life. For now I have given up the sight and sound of numerous birds to the helpful company of two feral, mouse-chasing felines and the pushy, oversized inside/outside cat from across the street.

Back Porch, Front Porch

Meow, meow, meow. Skitty, the calico stray peers into our back door begging for food. Muddy, her black and white offspring, sits on the railing looking into our back window. First thing in the morning when I open the blinds, he sits looking in at me, wide-eyed with anticipation.

Bob and I have become accustomed to the sight, early morning and later in the day. When we drive home, both cats recognize the car and come running to our door, waiting for their handouts.

Last week I opened the front door to let in the warmth of the early sun into our front porch. Meow, meow. Front paws on the screen door was the neighbor's large white cat asking for attention. I opened the door and he trotted in, walked around a bit and sped back out. Every day since he is at the door. He is solid and must weigh 20 pounds. He is not needing food. We don't know what he expects, but whenever we exit the front door, he follows us around. We know he lives across the street but somehow he has the idea that we are his second home. Once in a while he shows up at our back door, much to our alley cat's dismay. Muddy's large eyes grow larger when he shows up, especially when he nibbles on his food. The nerve of that fat cat! He is a well-fed house cat, obviously pampered, and he is infringing on the alley cats' territory.

What can I say? I can pet him (which is fun since the alley cats will not allow the touch), but now, no matter which door I exit, there is a cat or two, looking up at me with that look of "poor me. Take pity and feed me."

We are surrounded. I hate to say this, but we have become the cat house of the neighborhood. Shhhhhh..........

Still With Us

It was a year ago that the hungry alley cat showed up at our back door. She had moved into our back yard, living under a shed that had been occupied earlier by a skunk (removed earlier by a neighbor with a live trap). She was a very skittish calico and we named her Skitty. She took up residence with us through that long, cold winter. Bob fed her twice daily with fat-filled food to help her survive the cold. She was a voracious eater and soon took to eating three times a day. We indulged her with both wet and dry foods.

One day in early spring two neighbor dogs trapped Skitty under the shed. She panicked and moved out, but remained close enough to return for food at least twice a day. She gained weight and we thought she may be pregnant. Sure enough, in late May she returned to our back yard and following along was a tiny black and white kitten. Too late for this time, but when the kitten was old enough, we captured both and had them fixed by the No-kill Shelter.

This November makes one year that Skitty has been part of our lives. We are not sure if she captures the field mice that scamper through the gardens, but we are hopeful. I stopped feeding the birds when she first arrived, but she does stalk the ones who dare to trespass on our lawn or light on our bushes to search for the dried up berries from the summer blooms. The black and white kitten has learned to feast off of our back-porch bounty.

We are now feeding two. Perhaps they return the favor by eliminating the mice that used to sneak into our sheds and garden. Fingers crossed that they don't catch the birds. Either way, they are a part of our lives since the old calico came to our back door that bitter cold November of 2013.

Skitty has survived for five or six years (according to the vet). She may have been born into the wild, or abandoned by some thoughtless people, but either way, she and her lone kitten have entered our world and are now part of our family....our back yard family. They may be wild, but the sight of them sitting patiently on our back porch each morning as I raise the shades of the window, is somehow comforting and reassuring.

Inside and outside touch briefly on one another. Rain, snow, cold, heat. They are there.

Footprints in the Snow

There are two sets of tiny prints leading up to our back deck. It is a mystery as to whom they belong. We have been feeding our calico stray for over three months, but now and then another black and white cat shows up looking for food. This unusually cold weather has brought out a huge orange cat. Both of these must be strays to be wandering around in this bitter cold. My heart goes out to them. They must be cold and hungry and we guess that one or the other finishes the food that Skitty Kitty leaves behind. Another thought is that we are now feeding three abandoned critters.

Growing up in the north woods of Minnesota was a great place for footprints in the snow sightings. My father could identify each one of them, and taught me which was the hare, the deer, the wolf or the squirrel. Winters and snow were plentiful in those deep woods and I learned who had been visiting our neighborhood.

Moving to the southwest corner of South Dakota was another matter. Snow came less often and disappeared within hours or a few days. There were a few occasions when we spotted the tracks of a cougar, the deer, wild turkeys or pack rats, but these sightings were fewer than during my childhood years in the snows of Minnesota that arrived in October and remained through April.

While we lived in the country south of Hot Springs I still felt the familiar thrill from my childhood when I came across a set of tell-tale prints crossing our land. I knew who had visited us the night before.

After the wildfire we moved into Hot Springs where I see more prints every morning when I open the curtains to the day than I did when we lived in the country. Of course the town is surrounded by the hills that are home to the turkeys, deer and other wildlife.They visit us more in the winter when their food sources are scarce and our bird feeders are full.

Snow has been more constant this winter and I am able to identify our nightly visitors most mornings. I still enjoy observing tracks in the snow, but the sight of prints of the stray cats is a bit upsetting. They should be enjoying the comforts of a home, curled up on a lap or a sofa, or sitting in a window sunning themselves and twitching at the birds having lunch at the feeder.Someone, somewhere at sometime discarded them carelessly, leaving them to fend for themselves in a world that at times, may be cold, windy and lacking in nourishment.

For now I find some comfort in providing them with sustenance that will, hopefully, ease their journey through our back yard.

Response to Kitty E-Mails

Wow! Readers respond more to my animal blogs than those about the VA or other issues. So I will blog the latest about our stray kitty.

Remember the long-haired calico stray that moved into our lives last November, residing under our shed in our garden? She is still elusive, but she comes twice a day, almost on schedule, sits on our back steps and waits for her food. She has begun to meow in anticipation. That is a pleasant change. Also she remains on the bottom step when we put out her food dish, and when the weather permits, especially during the sunny days, she stays on the back steps, cleaning herself and enjoying the warmth of the sun.

On days when I think she has caught herself a mouse, she arrives late, eats little, but shows herself, as if to say that she is still around and does not want us to cease her daily deliveries. It is true that when she does not arrive on schedule that I think the worst, believing she has run off, or the almost un-thinkable, that she has been killed by a dog or other predator. I realize that she has become a part of our lives in some strange, but special way.

She continues to co-exist with us, but remains evasive. I have begun to call her Skitty. She is that skittish.

Slipping In

She arrived at our back door about a month ago. She did not stay or try to get in. She came cautiously, running away if we opened the door, but came slipping up the back stairs, and quickly downed the cat food and water we had placed for her inside a cardboard box as a protection from the elements. Just as quickly she disappeared. One day we followed her small cat prints in the newly fallen snow. They led us to our shed near the alley. She had found shelter under an opening under the shed. I believe that that hideaway had been previously occupied by a skunk that had been removed by a wary neighbor.

So it began. Each day my husband puts out food, twice a day, carefully mixing dry and wet food together. The weather has been cold and he often puts in fatty remains of our turkey or Christmas ham. We agree that she needs more fat in the extreme cold.

She still remains elusive, but she does not run as far when we disturb her on our back porch, and she answers to Bob's whistle when he first puts out her food. The past few days she even stays on our black back steps, warmed by the sun, cleaning herself thoroughly before she retreats to her underground home.

She is a calico cat, mostly white with large yellow eyes. She has long hair, helpful in this bitter cold, and she appears healthy. She eats a huge amount most days, but on occasion she snubs the food, and we guess that she had nabbed one of the many tiny mice that scurry around in the back garden.

She does not act like a feral cat, but she certainly does not try to make friends with us benefactors. She does not trust and remains cautious. This is strange. We have dealt with feral cats, and several times have had "dumped" cats peering in our door, asking to come in from the cold.

She is different. We wonder....where did she come from, what happened to her to have such mistrust? She is an older cat and not the usual "dropped-off kitten", left to fend for herself when she reaches about six months and is no longer "so cute", or, "getting to be a bother, so let's dump her".

She is now a part of our lives in some remote way. Will she ever allow us close to her? She seems oddly content residing under our shed and enjoying easy access to daily nourishment. We have lost our Bugsy after 18 years and our house seems too quiet some days, especially during the evenings when we have always had a fur ball purring contentedly on one of our laps. Will she move in closer to our lives, filling the space left by old Bugsy?

Perhaps in the new year we will have a new cat. Maybe yes, maybe no. Time and the stray cat will tell us.

Three Trapped Mice, See How they Run!

During the summer months I fed the birds saflower seeds, as suggested by a reader, to deter the greedy grackles until they fly south in the fall. Yesterday I went into the tool shed to retrieve my stash of sunflower seeds. I reached into the large plastic bucket to be greeted by a surpised mouse. (Actually, we were both surprised.) I went for help from my husband, being squeemish about reaching into the mouse's space.

Bob calmly tipped the can over. Out ran a terrified mouse. "Well," said Bob. "There is another mouse in here." He managed to shoo that mouse out, at the same time that we heard a third critter scurrying around at the bottom of the tattered bag of seed. It took some maneuvering, but my calm partner managed to flush the last one out.

I must say, those three mice must have been in there for a long time. The plastic bag inside the plastic container was shredded among the seeds, and the mice looked rather plump as they exited their prison. I wonder if they thought of it as a prison. I know they could not climb back out, but in the meantime, they gorged themselves while trapped at the bottom.

There are two ways of looking at a situation such as those three, tiny mice found themselves in while in confinement: they could expend all of their energy trying to escape, or, keep feasting and hope for rescue. Fortunately these little guys were discovered by a couple who "live and let live" unless forced to do otherwise.

Meanwhile, "Attention, all you stray cats out there. You are welcome to sustain yourselves in our back yard. Winter is on its way and there are some plump, furry creatures who may help you make it through the cold days ahead!"