Just got back from a cat-trapping trip with Kevin–he’s part of a local cat rescue that feeds and traps ferals, fixes them, and either finds homes (if possible) or releases them. It’s mostly the latter these days–as usual, the supply of cats vastly outstrips demand. Since he was trapping in an area that involved fence hopping, it’s much easier with a second party to hand the trap to.
Also, he is currently suffering explosive and unpredictable alimentary ailments, and the fact that he was out checking cat traps in this condition is a testimony to the man’s dedication. Still, I felt it prudent to come along, so that in case of emergency, somebody could explain to the nice officer why the scary bald man with tattoos was crapping in the bushes with a feral cat in one hand.
Two traps yielded two furious cats, both brown tabby, both currently residing in the garage. Neither one is at all happy, neither looking like a particularly good candidate for human rehoming, which is almost a relief, because there aren’t any homes to send them to. (I am told you feel REALLY guilty when you get a friendly socialized cat in the trap and have to re-release, which is mostly how Kevin wound up with his menagerie.)
One of them peed in the back seat on the way home. That was exciting for everyone.
Tomorrow they get shunted to one of several volunteer vets, who will try to fit them into their surgical schedule. Later they’ll be re-released where they were trapped, minus their reproductive organs and the tip of one ear. (Ear notching is rather unpleasant, but it’s the only way to know that you’re not re-trapping the same animals, and the stress of re-opening up a female for a second spay is a heckuva lot worse than a cosmetic clip of an ear tip. Since some property owners are inclined to thin the feral population with a gun, having a clipped ear to mark that they’re not contributing to overpopulation may even save their lives someday.)
I’m sure, being sane and intelligent animal lovers, you’re all spaying or neutering your pets, but I hereby grant you permission to smack somebody upside t’ head if you find out they’re not, on behalf of these two, a man hopping fences despite severe gastrointestinal distress, and the car upholstery I just wiped down.