Friday, February 19, 2010

Three More Homeless Camp Cats

I spent a grueling day attempting to catch homeless camp cats. There were the three teens not yet fixed, who need fixed. I caught one of those teens yesterday. Or was it the day before?

She's been in my bathroom, while Martha, the long hair brown tabby female, has been in a containment cage in the spare bedroom.

This is messing up the groove here.

Today, I caught a big black previously fixed male or female. I don't which, because last fall, I caught two black cats in the colony, one of each sex. This is one of them. That's all I know and all I want to know.

I had carried in three traps this morning. I got a late start. After I caught the black one, I hiked out through the mud, and went to the store. I bought cat food for my cats, then two bags of dry to take in to the homeless campers.

Then I hiked the bags in, after dumping them by the trail. I then go park my car and walk back to the trail.

About 1:30 p.m., I left two traps set and left. I carried the black cat out to the trail head in the trap. Then made the walk to get my car to drive back and pick up the cat.

I came home for awhile, to unload the black and feed my cats and have lunch/supper. I went back around 5:30 and had one of the other two gray and white unfixed cats in one trap. I set another and caught the second and last unfixed cat. I now have all three of the unfixed cats in my bathroom. I have no spay neuter appointments this week.

After catching the two unfixed cats, I hiked back to my car, drove it around, unloaded three empty traps, drove it back to park, walked back, hiked the three empty traps all the way into the camps. Set them. After 40 minutes, caught the brown tabby male.

Now they'd seen him walking near where myself and the two homeless campers sat. I
pointed him out and said "So can that one go, if I catch him?" "Sure," came the reply. "We don't even know that cat. Take him. He'll be a great mouser."

So I caught him. And suddenly, "Oh my gosh it's Tiger, let him out. He can't go."

I scowled in the dark to myself, and let him out.

All evening I'd slogged through mud getting hit in the face by tree shoots seven feet tall, snagged by barbed wire, even tore my best pair of jeans getting snagged on wire. They're goners! Then I lost my Kate sunglasses, my wonderful beloved Kate sunglasses. I got to my car when I went home mid day, for a break and could not find them in my purse. I went all the way back, and began a search of everywhere in the camp where I'd waited on traps and everywhere I'd set a trap, in case I took them off to set it. I was so mad at myself. I could not find them.

I didn't know for sure if the homeless had found them or not. They said they hadn't. But I've discovered they are very very sincere liars. I mean, really geniune sounding liars. So, I don't know if they stashed them or were telling the truth that they didn't. I'll never know. But I'm not happy about losing them. I'm sorry, Kate. I loved them. (Kate gave them to me when she worked at the factory that makes them).

I gave up on the trapping after they made me turn loose Tiger, after telling me half hour earlier they didn't know that cat, when I pointed him out before he went into the trap. Moments before.

Tell your kids they don't want to grow up to be alcoholics! Or cat trappers.

I'm bruised, torn, scratched, sore, trapped five cats, will likely have poison oak again. My best jeans, of the three pair I own, are barbwire ripped across the rear and unpatchable, my sunglasses are gone. My tracfone's history and it was a beautiful day!

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