Pulling into my neighborhood just before midnight last night, I slowed for the first speed bump and two cats ran into the street. One changed course and doubled back right away, the other, a mottled grey, black, and brown, hunched down in the middle of the street unconcerned by my presence. Turns out, it had a mouse! I inched forward, the cat flinched and seemed to lose the mouse. Nope, scamper, scamper, pounce—got it again. Mottled was clearly playing with it, and my husband and I chuckled while watching and said the moment needed a British narrator. I kept creeping the car along, but the cat and mouse game remained in the street—maybe Mottled appreciated the headlights and/or audience? Scamper, scamper, pounce—mouse pinned. Mottled let it go… bat, thwap, pounce. I did momentarily consider saving the mouse, but it’s the circle of life. The mini-fleet of cats that live among the mobile homes provide a service by keeping the rodent population in check. My poor dog in the car did his anxious whimper whine thing, wanting a piece of the action—the cat, specifically (a vole got into our house a few apartments back and he had zero interest in it… but he’d beat up a cat if given the chance). Finally, Mottled picked up the mouse in its mouth and left the road. It didn’t look like a kill shot—looked more like a nonchalant “let’s just take this elsewhere,” move. The performance was over.
When I say there’s a mini-fleet of cats in the community, that means there are a lot of cats here, but it’s not overrun or a nuisance. They don’t clump into clowders so I don’t even know if I should try to name what they are. Anyway, one memorable late dusk in my first month living here, I was creeping down the 10mph street and dozens of glinting eyes stared up at me. It looked as though a cat for every mobile home was lounging in the roadway, presumably soaking up the last of the asphalt’s warmth. Not bothered in the slightest by the vehicle, they all just watched me drive past. If I wasn’t a cat person it might have been creepy, but I thought it was cool. Distances respected, territories appeared clearly decided, and the few that were paired up might have been siblings that were willing to share.
One of my neighbors not only has a few strictly indoor cats, she fills bowls on both front and back porches with dry cat food and water (I wonder what she spends on cat food annually). In the year since buying our trailer, I’ve noticed at least 6 different cats (crows, squirrels, and one HUGE opossum, too) that regularly eat from her bowls that I don’t see wandering my yard, then there’s two more cats that eat her food and do wonder my yard so I figure I’m part of their territory. The neighbor’s food bowls must be a sort of neutral zone since it’s too abundant to be worth fighting over. They don’t eat at the same time, mind you… the food doesn’t make them friends.
As a stay at home mom, I could totally be the nosy neighbor keeping tabs on the people around me, but I’m tucked into a very private spot in the community—halfway down a dead-end road, woods behind me, and a row of trailers between me and the street. Even if I wanted to people-watch, I couldn’t be sneaky about it because I’d have to hang out away from my house. Good thing I’m not a busybody… I just keep tabs on the cats.
Here’s a view of my backyard. I call this big guy Tom (creative, I know). He’s friendly, but nobody’s pet. Clearly not neutered, he also gets in a lot of scraps because when I see him after he’s been missing a few days, he’s got obvious war wounds. A little orange and white cat we mostly just call Kitty (trying to transition to Cake for Adventure Time’s Cake the Cat) claimed my yard and family as her own and sleeps under my porch (she’ll have her own post eventually), but Tom here is allowed to visit. They don’t fight, but they don’t cuddle either. I’m hoping they don’t make kittens because I’ll be emotionally compelled to care for them, but my dog would hate me.
Random SAHM Thoughts 