If you recall from an earlier post, my trailer is located in a relatively private spot of the neighborhood. I couldn’t sneakily spy on my neighbors if I wanted to, so it’s a good thing I don’t want to. The stray/outdoor cats that roam around are enough of a distraction for this stay at home mom. Like is Cake finally pregnant or did a kind neighbor spring for her spaying before I moved in? Because I’ve looked it up, cats are prolific breeders, so in the year I’ve known Cake she could have had 2 litters. I have chased Tom away from her a few times upon overhearing the cat-fight style howls… only time will tell.
And how is Tom? He still vanishes for days at a time on occasion, but he wanders less frequently lately. Maybe he’s happy with my yard and family since I more often than not look out my window and see him lounging on my patio furniture. Unfortunately, I think he’s been losing weight, but for all I know he was just poofy with a cold-weather coat and shed it for the summer. But whatever scraps he’s been getting into have been worse… he must be getting old and his territory challenged by more and/or stronger cats. Even Cake, who is half his length, bops him sometimes, but with them I think it’s more of a family thing.
Tom is really chill, almost aloof about us petting him (unless we’re opening a can of wet cat food in his presence because then he’s super lovey-dovey rubbing our legs), but I don’t want to test that by poking any wounds. The morbidly fascinated by that sort of thing/Army Medic/mom in me does check as closely as I dare to see if anything ever looks infected – I’m only assuming it would look similar to an infected human injury. My Deedee understands boo-boos and the concept of being gentle with them, so it’s really sweet to see her squat and peer at him closely without touching, and saying “Aww, boo-boo-ouchie. Mommy, big cat has boo-boo-ouchie.” I’m actually really, really proud of that. She’s a sensitive girl anyway – which manifests as drama queen now and again, but if I ever say “ouch,” she’ll be right there asking if I need a kiss.
I do worry about Tom, clearly, I’m emotionally attached. On one of the hottest days we had recently, I freaked out seeing him sprawled out in the shade, thinking he was dead. I guess that was just a comfortable way to deal with the heat, I don’t know. I emailed a nearby vet’s clinic to see what a workup on a stray would be. Just the once-over would cost $60, then any treatment beyond that, like immunizations, antibiotics, sedation and wound cleaning would be figured out as needed. That’s actually a lot to ask of me right now, especially when I couldn’t bring him inside to keep him safe while things heal. I am allergic to cats, my dog Miller would freak out, and I’m not so sure Tom himself would even appreciate it. He’s spent his life outside, only as tame as he needs to be to keep we humans treating him well. I’ll have to settle for feeling good about being the one giving him tick and flea treatments, fresh water, and the occasional can of wet food.
I’ll just keep watching him and believe he’s living a full life on his terms, and when he goes it’s the circle of life. I remind myself of Linda Belcher (of the animated sitcom Bob’s Burgers) and the way she treats the racoons in the alley like her own live action soap opera. I don’t have creative names for all the cats (yet), the other ones I see eating from the neighbor’s outside dish get called things like brindle-grey, cow-spots, the one with the collar, the GIANT opossum (seriously, the dude is probably the size of my 25 pound Boston Terrier)… haha. But Cake and Tom are “mine,” I love seeing them when I look out my window and when I walk Miller. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll wind up like the old neighbor lady that leaves a food dish outside at all times… unable to justify taking in all the strays, but unwilling to wonder if any are going hungry.
Random SAHM Thoughts 