Saving Stray Cats, And Loving Them For Life

THE FACEBOOK CAT CLUB question of the day was: "If you saw a pregnant cat by the side of the road, would you stop and pick her up, and take her home, and take care of her and her kittens, forever and a day? Or something to that effect. It didn't offer specifics, such as, are we talking about a remote stretch of road, a major highway, or an urban environment, and does the cat have a collar on, or what not. People, as always, chimed in. Overwhelmingly, the consensus was that yes, I most certainly would, in a heartbeat. After all, these are hard core cat people. I know the type, being one of them. I chimed right on in, eagerly asserting my good intentions, my willingness to saddle myself for the rest of my adult life. After all, I have already done exactly that, twice, have adopted two mothers and their litters, all seven of whom cats now reside comfortably in my garage, even as we speak. They're adorable. I recommend it. One kill joy had the temerity and percipience to point out that the pregnant lady was quite likely to run from anyone getting out of a car on a highway; we remained silent. Why spoil the hypothetical fun? Trying to warm things up a bit, I congratulated all the would be saviors for their compassion, when, suddenly but not surprisingly, some trouble maker blurted out that just because not everyone answered the question "yes", they still care. Brilliantly, I returned that I never said they didn't. She just had to win the argument, so was willing to contradict herself to do it: "I never said they did". I knew it was time to leave the room. I parted with "yes you did, see above". By now, she may have figured it out, asuming she went back, reread her own words, and gave it a moment's thought. Cat conversation can stimulate as much spontaneously camaraderie as bitch sessions about the weather, and are far more interesting. Then too, they can lead into dark places. I shall never forget the time I was praising Islamic culture at the senior center, for their love of cats, and its compassionate treatment of all stray cats. Cats were beloved by the Prophet. He gave a cat credit for saving his life by killing a snake, and in the Quran, cats are mentioned with affection, and, unlike dogs, may enter the home. Cats in Islam are considered clean and communal. Everyone is responsible for the care and well being of all cats. They roam the streets of all Islamic cities, beloved. if you dare harm one, its curtains for you. I really love and admire that. The folks at the senior center saw fit to chastise me for making favorable remarks about the infidel. Beloved Pentecostals, I was merely talking about cats. the beautiful white female who came into my yard looked hungry, so I fed her. and again. She settled in, then, one day, brought her litter over, and showed them to me. Four cuties. One one survived. then came her sister, another white beauty. same scenario. First, wrap the old man around my pretty paw, then, bring forth the litter. This time, all four survived, and I help nurture them to young adulthood, their current state. the two mothers and five children now let me touch them, and I see years of happiness straight ahead. The expense of having all seven spayed, neutered, and vaccinated cost me my retirement savings, but hell, who wants to live forever? these two white sisters were born in the big yard across the street, as were their litters, so they often cross the street, perhaps seeking their roots. i wish they wouldn't do that, but at least its a quite, suburban street. The offspring of feral mothers, I discovered, begin life feral, in imitation, and I am still conquering this with slow but steady love. its going to work out. they swarm at my feet when I bring forth the feast, and I can now bend over and stroke all seven on their sweet backs, with impunity. they don't even start anymore, and are comfortable with me, and the electric blanket and heated kitten beds I provided. And boy, do they ever eat well. Left over chicken and beef from the senior augment of healthy cat food. they even enjoy the occasional meatloaf snack, but I am careful not to give them too much of a not cat human thing. They aint going nowhere, and, it turns out, neither am I. So much for my retirement plans of leisure and travel. I have babies to care for. Europe'll have to wait, maybe for another lifetime. At least I have my precious babies.