Keeping and Losing Cats

EVERY STRAY CAT who enters my large yard is fed, and offered a home. Some accept my offer, othere do not. There seems to be anemerging movement in America to provide better care for stray cats. Feral cats, without any prior association with human beings, are lesslikely to approach a human, and must be lured into accepting assitance. Or,so I have noticed. The very moment I begin to think that I have done all I can to help them, somebody else has done even more. Such people make good role models for me, and, I might presume, for others. Shortly before I typed these word, while riding a stationary bicycle, I saw alarge cat, possibly a neighbor's, chasing one of mine,as small female, down the street. I should have immediately interrupted my work out to step outside and do what I could, but didn't. My exercise was too important, and, in any event, the chase scene had already transpired, and there was nothing I could do to remedy the situation. I hope I don't pay dearly for my negligent mistake. Every cat I have ever adopted and cared for was a stra, including Mandi, my indoor only angel more than thirteen years old. She entered my yard in 2012, ahowed no inclination to ever leave,returning to the same spot every day for a week. Our relationshp began in earnest when I lost patience, and finally lured her onto my lap by appearing on my front porch with a big, juicy tuna fish sandwich. She jumped up, took a quick bite, and jumped right back down, not wanting to press her luck. It got easier after that. Then came Jake, whom I named after a charachter in a John Grisham novel (I almost named him "Grisham", but decided not to), a striped orange tabby whose full name became "Jake the Yellow Kitten". (I call all cats "kittens" affectionately). Thena Siamese male showed, and I noticed him, who at first I thought was a her, snuggling in a pile of October leaves in my yard. Whereas Jake had actually tried to claw his way through a window screen to gain admission, Shylow's tactic ws to sit in my driveway on a frigid January night and cry for help. First Jake, and then Shylow had evidently seen Mandi come and go at will in my house, and wanted the same treatment. They got it. When Jake and Shylow died much too soon, I decided not to allow any more cats indoors as long as Mandi is alive. My best guess is that she wouldn't tkae kindly to indoor feline company at her advanced age, and although I may be wrong, I'm afraid to try. The only outddor kittnes I have now are Remmi and Pseudo, female offspring of mothers long dead and buried in my yard whose remaining litter mates lgrew up and left home long ago. My assuption is that they all found good homes, otherwise, they surely would have come back. Destiny, Remmi's sister, got mad at me for having her spaded, and sought a new life elsewhere. Riley, a yellow tabby, reache full growth, sized up the situation in which he was destined to spend his life in my garage and yard with a group of females, decided to seek his fortune elsewhere as well. My sense is that he sas a future in which he would compete for food with a bevy of females, and wanted out. I am given to understand that males do not like hanging with a group of females. One can hardly blame them. I mourn all the kittens who have graced then left my life. I alwasy shall. I mourn in advance those that will ultimately do likewise. I hope Remmi comes back. If she doesn't, I'm in for more mourning.