Tag Archives: animal causes

More Waiting

This evening I tried again to trap one of the several black cats on the base. I was successful, although not the way I’d hoped.

First I trapped the same cat that I trapped a couple of weeks ago. I had her spayed the first time, of course, and didn’t need to trap her again. And despite her terror the first time she found herself with no way out, she went right in that trap again. “Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, are you?” I asked her. She didn’t respond. Too ashamed of her inability to resist tuna, I suppose.

Next the elusive cat that I was trying to trap the last time I posted sauntered coolly into the trap, gobbled up the tuna, and exited without setting it off. Again. Which is all for the best, I suppose, as I am pretty sure she is no longer pregnant. Her nursing babies are going to need her for the next few weeks. I did finally get a good look at her and she is magnificent. Long charcoal fur with a full mane.

Finally the third and fourth cats appeared. One is clearly a Tom, with the telltale fat cheeks containing all those pheromones. The other is a fairly small, smooth coated, and of course, black cat. She couldn’t resist the tuna either, but she is not so wily as the other. As soon as the trap closed, I rushed her to the vet, and he helped me confirm what I suspected: she is nursing. I took her right back and released her.

It looks like in five or six weeks I will have at least two adult females, an adult male m, and who knows how many kittens to TNR or socialize. Until then, I leave them in peace. I, on the other hand, will be diligently seeking an elusive peace, knowing that all those little souls are struggling to stay alive in a hard world. Say a prayer.

Ferals and Fosters, Part Two

Yesterday, I posted about our base’s feral cat problem, and the three cats a couple of friends and I decided to rescue. Kittens, actually, about three months old. Feral kittens, to be precise. And they were coming home with me. Why me? Because I was the sucker of the three of us that was willing to spend the time trying to socialize them.

Now you should know, gentle reader, that I’m a terrible foster mom for cats. One of my cats, Maggie, is a failed foster. She came to me after having been found in a car engine as a tiny kitten. I tried to find a home for her but finally resigned myself to the fact that she would be mine. And she is; she loves me as much as any animal I’ve ever had, I think. I can’t imagine giving her up.

Maggie, my failed foster

Maggie, my failed foster

There were only two possible ends to this, neither of them good. One, with me as the crazy cat lady with six cats and no boyfriend (ever) or two, with me in tears watching my darling little furbabies ride away with their new family. Nevertheless, I brought the three little lovelies home.  I set up a borrowed extra-large kennel in a guest bedroom. I covered everything up, even putting a large shower curtain on the bed, under the fitted sheet, to prevent permanent damage from potential accidents. I blocked off ways to get under the bed because it is vital that kittens who need to be socialized not be able to hide from the human. My plan was to let the kitties out when they felt more comfortable, and to come in and sit with them often, letting them get used to me, begin to trust me, and eventually, hopefully become domesticated enough to be adopted.

The first night I left them free in the guest room while I slept down the hall, and all was well. They scampered into the kennel in the morning and I latched the door and went to work. That evening, I went and sat with them for an hour or so, working on my computer and talking to them softly. The following morning, there was a pile of cat poo in the middle of the bed. Well, no real damage done, I thought, and off I went to do laundry before work.

Three little fosters...

Three little fosters…

The next morning, same thing. And the next, the poo was surrounded by a veritable small pond of pee. And on top of that, they had managed to get under the bed. Well, then. An hour or so later, there was more laundry in the washer, the kittens were back in the kennel, and under the bed was once again blocked off.

The next morning, exactly the same scenario. Seriously? I mean, SERIOUSLY?

To say I was frustrated would be a vast understatement. I was seriously considering taking them back to the Kitty Kabana…

To be continued…

Doing Good Across the Globe

Some people are drawn to causes that help children. Or maybe their passion is in finding a cure for cancer or Alzheimer’s. Others enjoy contributing to charities that fight poverty or hunger. Christians are called to help spread the Gospel, and many do that by supporting missionaries or local churches. I’m pretty fond of all these particular causes, myself. I’m a Christian with several friends fighting cancer, another whose mom (and the rest of her family) is dealing with Alzheimer’s. A lot of people I know contribute to World Vision or Compassion International (including me!), and most of my Christian friends give to their churches and to foreign missions. All important and good causes. My most important projects, however, are not always the most popular because the needs that speak to me most loudly are those of animals.

Right now one of my favorite causes is called Nowzad. Nowzad is an organization that rescues stray, abandoned or abused animals in Afghanistan, provides animal welfare education to the Afghan people, helps care for and humanely reduce the stray dog population, and helps soldiers rescue dogs and cats from the front lines and gets them the heck out of there, often sending them home (to the USA, UK, Canada, Italy, and other partner nations) to the families of soldiers serving in the line of fire. Lately I’ve been trying to help Lisa get out of the line of fire. She’s adorable, but so are all of them.

I’d invite you to take a look at some of what these good people are doing and support the cause, if you are so moved. These are good people doing good work in a dangerous and frightening place. I’m proud to help them do it!

Buddies

Two of my rescues: Hillcat, the tuxedo tripod who has already crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and George, my little black baby who continues to live with me here in Belgium. Each has his own story, but we’ll save those for another post.

And shortly I’ll be posting about just how important animal causes are to me…stay close!