Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Screech, Latest Yard Stray

I've lost count, but I think Screech, the buff tux boy, is cat number 37 I've trapped in my own yard since moving to Albany.  That's a lot of strays just going through my yard and says a lot about the state of feline overpopulation in Albany.  Or the past state of feline overpopulation in Albany.

Never underestimate the difference one woman with a live trap can make in a short time!

I had gone to bed, but had to get up later and use the bathroom.  I peeked out my kitchen window, and there he was again.  The buff boy with the bad attitude.  Out in my driveway.

I debated myself, wanting to get back under the warm covers.  He'd been through once before.  I had thought the orange tux fighting with the neighbor's black tux was Simba, from the house on the other street.  He always is hanging out in my yard, or one or the other neighbor's yards, being barely noticed at home.  But it wasn't Simba.  So barefoot and in pajamas, I went after him then, a few weeks ago.  What was I thinking?  I tried to scruff him in front of my neighbor's garage, as he was leaving.  The cat came at me, swung at me too.  He missed, but I was duly impressed.

He had a bad cold then, drainage from his eyes, that looked sore, and his nose.  Same thing tonight, snarfling when he ate.  I took a trap out I quickly prepared in my garage, set it right in front of him, knowing better than to try to scruff such a powerful male.

He went right in and the outrage was immediate and loud.

His screaming, growling, hissing and striking out continued.  I tried t comfort him, but he was mad and wanted to kill me.

I decided to kill him with kindness.  He's obviously lacked that in his life.   He's tame but super aggressive towards humans, which indicates to me he has been on the short end of abuse.  And when a cat still tries to strike back, usually means it's been kids abusing the cat.

I transferred him, with great difficulty, to the rabbit hutch.  He doesn't behave normally for a transfer.  He really seems terribly tired and when finally inside the rabbit hutch, when he figured out my intentions were good, he seemed content, happy to be safe, with food, water and a bed, where nobody will go after him.  I'd sprayed the carrier bed with catnip first, to help calm him.

An unfixed male has no friends.

The whole endeavor worried Fluffy Butt, the Waterloo girl, still in my garage, getting antibiotics twice daily and 20 minutes steam jobs thrice daily.  She goes home on Wednesday.  I'm trying to come up with cat food to take with me to give those people, so they'll feed the cats properly at least for awhile.  I'm not Miss Money Bags, however and it's very hard for me to come up with anything anymore.

Fluffy Butt is delightful, very funny and loving.  Screech, the buff tux boy, is about exactly the opposite.

Fluffy Butt of Waterloo

And then there's this.  Talk about odd sleeping positions.  Buffy is really too big to sleep in that basket, but she likes the basket.  She overflows and resorted to using a board next to it as a pillow.

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