I was checking traps, back and forth, over near the freeway, over and over, back and forth. It's the place a woman lived for years, feeding cats, not fixing them, however, then moved. She has continued to feed them until she could figure out what to do and months ago, requested help getting them fixed. They don't return, once caught, as they have no future there. Meow Village took the first 7. I dropped them off there, after taking them clear up to Portland, to be fixed at the FCCO. She's housed the rest in her garage, and is building a cattery. So far, we've caught 17 there, the last caught was yesterday, an already neutered vocal Maine Coon boy. He's quite tame.
But tomorrow I say goodbye to Zoey.
Most of the farm colony cats came running last night when I arrived to feed. My goodness how they've grown. Dotty, Mama Mia and Smoothie are tame and I'd love to find them real homes. Grayson is probably the most feral. He sure has changed in the time I've known him from a skrawny worm infested kitten to a shaggy (only in the winter) massive male. He's been fixed since he was a teen.
|Grayson as a kitten|
|I dealt with so many cats there, when trying to get adults fixed and all the kittens out to rescues, I never caught Grayson until he was a teen.|
|This is Grayson now|
|Dotty looks so young in this photo|
|She has turned tame, and gets shaggy also in the winter|
|Cher and Grayson|
|Freckle, one of the big males, long fixed.|
Well, I've had a fun week with Zoey here. She's one of those cats who make an impression. For a cat who has lived alone all her short life thus far, she has bravely taken on life within the horde. She was not as quick as Arizona to navigate the personalities of my old crankies, but she's done well.
We will all miss her.