Much has happened on the feral follies front since my post of April 24th. I reported then that Jeannie and Bonnie planned to return the next night to the gambling joint/storm drain (Mike says those two things are good metaphors for each other) to try to catch Stumpy. They were eager to finish getting that colony fixed and relocated before there were more drownings--and more colonists! Well, they didn't trap Stumpy on the 25th, but they did catch what they think is the last of her kittens, a little black female they named "Dixie" after the Winn-Dixie grocery that's a few doors down from the gambling place.
Actually Cliff, one of the night security guards, caught her around five o'clock Thursday morning using J's spring trap, after she showed him how to set it. Cliff called J, who drove over and got Dixie and brought her back to the house. A few hours later J handed her off to Bonnie, who passed her on to Bob, who took her to the Pet Vet Cruiser for a little fix-me-up and then to Cat Tail Corner, where in all likelihood she won't drown.
In the brief time that Dixie was a guest in our garage, M took her picture:
Now wind the clock forward a bit: In the wee small hours of Saturday morning, Cliff re-caught
the newly spayed and released Brandy by just grabbing her and putting her into a pet carrier that he
had in his car. Then when he got off work he took her home to live with
him. Smiles and high-fives all around!
At some point J and B learned that the Pet Vet Cruiser would be in DeLand the following Monday and Tuesday. Usually it's not available for feral cats except at its home base every other Thursday. But Bob thought he might be able to get the doctors to make an exception, since he is one of their best customers in the whole county. So J and B went back to the storm drain on Sunday night, the 29th, and this time they caught Stumpy, the last of the feral cats in that area. (At least for the moment.) And then for crazy some reason they renamed her "Bobbie."
I don't know why they felt the need to change her name, as both Stumpy and Bobbie refer to her tail, which is very short. Stumpy/Bobbie is a tuxedo Manx, as you may remember from my earlier post. You know, the more I think about it, the better I like the sound of that combined name. It has a certain ring to it. If I ever write a song about feral cats, I believe I'll call it "The Ballad of Stumpy/Bobbie." But I digress.
Monday morning J and B took Stumpy/Bobbie to the Pet Vet docs for her rendezvous with destiny. And that evening, Bob took her to Cat Tail Corner, where she was reunited with Dixie.
Speaking of her ex-babies, it appears that Stumpy/Bobbie was the mother of most of the younger cats in that colony. This includes Cash and the unfortunate girl kitty who drowned with him in the storm drain, and also Brandy, who finally went home to live with Cliff. And here's some food for thought: The unnamed girl kitty was pregnant when she died. And Brandy was pregnant when she was caught and spayed. And so was Stumpy/Bobbie. Uh-gain!
Some of you might consider spaying a pregnant cat distasteful or downright immoral, but M insisted that we include this information to help you see what a terrible problem this homeless cat business is. He says that the real immorality comes from the dim-bulbs who never get their animals spayed or neutered in the first place and then abandon them along the roadside when they can't be bothered with them anymore.
Now that the Allied Veterans Casino Cat Roundup is over for the moment, J and B have turned their full attention back to Callie and Pumpkin, up at the other end of the strip mall. When J came home from last evening's feeding expedition, she said that they were both there chowing down. And nearby, watching the show, was a yellow tomcat with big eyes for Pumpkin.
Too much ain't enough . . .
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