So the past month has been full of house-fixin' and career-contemplatin'. I just registered with the outplacement company paid for by my old company as part of the severance package, so we'll see if they can offer any useful advice. Meanwhile, I'm tyring to brush up on my programming skills, trying to learn everything I can about MySQL databases using PHP. This is probably stuff I should have learned in, say, 2001, but instead I chose to waste my days sleeping late and pretending to work. In those days I was telecommuting and making a relative ton of dough doing very little. If I had those days now ... like gold in my hand ...

Labels: Cats, Unemployment

Along with all the usual stuff going on, a cat we had recently trapped for TNR gave birth on Tuesday. We knew she had been pregnant but didn't know how far along she was. The two kittens she produced were clearly premature, I'm not sure by how much. One was stillborn, but the other was still alive. However, the mother cat wasn't being motherly at all, preferring to get as far from the kitten as possible.

We moved them into a room to try to lessen the cat's stress level (stress is probably what mad her give birth early, so we thought stress may have been keeping her from taking care of her kitten. Well, the mom cat didn't change her tune, she just hid behind a futon. I don't know when the kitten was actually born but the situation was getting dire. We set up a box with a heating pad under a towel and tucked him in. I ran off to get kitten formula. When I got back I got him to consume a syringe full (the kitten bottle was way too big). Newborns need formula every couple of hours so I started setting my alarm. The first few feedings went well; he was eating 2 or 3 syringes full (it was difficult to tell when he was full, but he would sort of turn his nose up to let me know). I tried 'burping' him but who knows if I got that right. Finally I had to rub his genitals with a damp cotton ball to get him to 'eliminate.' Nothing really came out, but he also had been hours born without food, so I figured I would let it slide.

At around 4am I got up to feed him. He felt warm but I knew something was wrong, as he wasn't squirmy and he felt limp. His warmth had come from the heating pad; he had died. It was pretty clear he hadn't made it, but honestly it's hard to tell with such a young kitten. I've seen newborn kittens, and this guy was probably a week away from even that level. He had no fur and could barely move by himself. The thought of him managing to find his mother's nipple to latch onto, even if she had been accommodating, seemed impossible. So maybe it wasn't all that surprising. But it's still kind of sad, the little fella didn't have much of a chance.

It's possible the mother cat rejected him because she knew this; it's also possible the mother cat still has more kittens inside her, that will be born at the right time. I'm not sure what this means as she is scheduled to be spayed on Friday. This is always a touchy area for TNR advocates. We want to improve the quality of life for cats that are here now; part of this involves sterilizing cats to prevent future cats further crowding their environment. But what do you do when a cat is so far along that her kittens can survive? This makes me imagine all manner of gross surgical situations with kittens, but I'll leave that to the real vets.

Anyway, it's still disappointing we were able to save the kitten, but we have so many other cats to take care of it would have been insurmountable to do it all. Still, if we encounter any more rejected kittens, we now have a big supply of kitten formula and a little know-how which we may put to good use.

Labels: Bad Stuff, Cats, kittens

I keep waiting for the heat to subside, but it keeps being hot. I have so many projects to complete this summer, projects I specifically waited for summer to begin, only to find myself unable to complete them because I'm sweating so much I can't hold a paint brush or get a proper grip on the staple gun.

Of course, soon, I will have all the time in the world to do my little household tasks. Unemployment is looming, but for the time being the focus of my paranoia is not so much on the actual getting of a new job so much as on why I'm not sweating over it enough. Maybe it's because I'm doing all my sweating climbing the stairs. But I can't get really freaked about not having a job, which I find odd since I haven't been out of work more than a couple of months since college, and nearly all of those situations were in fairer economic climes than this. It seems like all the people I know who lost their jobs since the economy gave out are still not working regularly, and it recently dawned on me that even though I am technically an adult who moves in certain tech-friendly circles, I somehow don't have any friends or old school chums who are ultra-successful, who have invented something unique or written a one-hit wonder song. In short, my friends are no help in my desire to leech off somebody's good work so I'll have to go ahead and get a job after all. Unless I win the lottery, and I'm starting to think that Quick Pick machine doesn't like me and keeps giving me bad numbers.

I'm trying to formulate a plan for a new web site project, something to demonstrate some skill and maybe be of some use to somebody as well. Considering all these cats we have I have concluded I should build a site to help advertise these cats for adoption, though I don't know who will actually see the site since I'm not exactly Nick Denton. But it will be good to exercise my web muscles and give me something to do at the office since I'm clearly not expending any effort in that area anymore. It's totally way hard to give a hoot about this job now that I know it's going away. I just plan to keep my head down and make sure I come out looking okay in the end.

Now, I just need a name for our home-grown cat shelter adoption joint. I'm thinking of something with the word "hoarders" in the title.

Pictured (from top): Powder, a lovely 14 year old princess I catsat for last week, Hotplate, recent TNR victim, and Granita ("Granny"), recovering from spay surgery in the basement, possibly the mother of pretty much every cat in the neighborhood.

Labels: Adoption, Cat Fixin', Cats, Job

Labels: Adoption, Cats

You people with cars won't understand this, but sometimes we sit around and discuss all the things we could do if we had one. How we could go to Ikea, to Costco, to the Catskills (I don't know why we bring that up, neither of us knows anything about the Catskills). The idea that we could have something to not only transport us around but also hold heavy items so that we may bring them to our door, well, let's just say we understand the allure.

Eventually these conversation descend into all the reasons we SHOULDN'T ever have a car: the costs, the worries about theft, the moving from one side of the street to the other all the time. So we end feeling pleased we are still reliant on mass transit. But this weekend we were able to tool around and block the box like all those SOBs who act like they don't see me jaywalking on 23rd St.

Empty Cages had put out a request for a washing machine, and a woman offered up her washer and dryer for free. Someone would need to go get them, but nearly every member of the group was working an adoption event scheduled for the same day. They needed a Transporter.

I saw this not only as an opportunity to help out the group but to turn the whole thing to my selfish advantage and take the van out shopping after my chores were done. So I picked up the van at my favorite Uhaul spot in East New York where the receptionist calls everybody "Honey" and your transactions are constantly interrupted by people buying bags of ice (their other business) and people yelling at each other loudly. I got the van and an appliance dolly and started up to the BQE. Before getting on the highway, I stopped off at a friend's house to finally pick up the air conditioner she said I could have months before. Originally I intended to use this AC myself, but somehow I promised it to Empty Cages along the way (maybe it's a cult). With the AC stowed, I was off to Bay Ridge.

I got there way faster than I thought (thank you Robert Moses), located the apartment and found the donators ready for me. The woman's burly son, along with his burly friend, were ready with the washer/dryer. These things were huge, front-loading machines, the washing machine itself weighing almost 250 pounds. With effort we got them into the van with millimeters to spare.

As I headed up to the shelter space, I was already doing the math: 2 Burly Guys + Me = Barely got it into the van, therefore me + [UNKNOWN] = spinal injury. I got up to the space and amassed a few people to help move them. It didn't look good, unfortunately it appears that cat rescue attracts few really muscular people. But lucky for us, some truly tough guys were right down the block.

There's been a big bus on the block for a while now, all painted and graffiti-covered, and big dudes are always around working on it. It's one of those biodiesel conversions, which is better for the environment (even better for it is the fact that it hasn't moved in weeks). We asked a couple of the guys if they would help and they agreed.

We tried to pitch in but they basically did all the work, strapping the machines to the dolly and lugging it up the narrow stairs. Their only remuneration: they wanted to meet the roosters (liberated from cockfighting dens in the Bronx). They said they hear them crowing all the time and had wondered where it came from. The rooster complied loudly.

With the machines dropped off, the job was essentially over. This gave me the perfect excuse to commandeer the van and use it to my own nefarious purposes. I drove home, picked up Jeannie and we drove to the Sunset Park Costco.

I haven't been in a wholesale store in years and Jeannie had never been. It's pretty overwhelming at first. We got memberships and ID card and waded through the enormous crowds with our oversize cart. We knew we wanted cat supplies but we didn't have a list or even a clear idea of what Costco carried. I was convinced they would have 'everything' from kitty litter to furniture, while Jeannie thought it would be far more limited. The truth was somewhere in the middle, an odd collection of stuff with no discernible theme. You could buy 20-packs of bar soap, but they didn't carry Ivory. You could select from a huge variety in brands of laundry detergent but no one brand had the oil-drum size I was searching for. However in some areas they had exactly what we were looking for.

I had been told by Lisacat that Costco carried a decent-quality cat food, and indeed, it is higher quality that it has any need to be. It's all chicken and rice, no wheat and no meat by-products. It's sold in 25-lb. bags, of which we bought 5. They also had cases of canned Friskies which we also picked up. But there wasn't much else in the way of cat supplies, just some Iams and 40-lb. buckets of Scoop Away litter (we bought one even though I find Scoop Away overly perfumey). I still can't figure out why the cat food was so premium when they don't appear to have much interest in cats beyond these few supplies, but I'll take it.

After getting that, everything else was gravy. The place is huge; at first I thought it was merely big until I realized there was a whole other floor to the place. We bought as much stuff as we could justify and by the time we got to the check-out, we both had to push the cart, it was so heavy. We lucked with a short check-out line and got back to the van in plenty of time (and oh yeah, we stopped at the liquor store next door and bought a couple of huge bottles of Jim Beam, just in case we need several gallons of whiskey soon).

We got the stuff home and dumped it off (the cats were very excited to see the cat food so it had to be stowed in the bathroom until we could deal with it). We got the van back before the office closed, so we didn't have to worry about getting up in the morning to return it. I can't believe it all went down without any mishaps, usually these vehicle encounters always result in some injury, however small. But I managed to drive without running into anything/anybody, and near as I can figure the equipment we transported suffered no real damage. Mission Accomplished.

So it was fun having an excuse to drive around and do stuff in a car, but by the end of the day I was happy to return it and walk away. There's just too many things to worry about when you own a car, and I got enough stuff to obsess over these days. But maybe I will sign up for that Zipcar thing, although I'm not sure it's worth it when the Uhaul van is closer and cheaper. And really, is there anything cooler than driving a cargo van that tells everyone how cheap you are?

Labels: Cats, Empty Cages Collective, Good Stuff, Mass Transit

We're happy to announce that Izzy the non-feral yard cat has found a permanent (indoor) home! We're very glad to get this guy off the street for good, he'll be moving up to the north side of the neighborhood where, we're told, all the fun stuff happens.

It's been a while since we had an adoption go so smoothly; the guy answered Izzy's ad and actually provided the info I asked for. It's pretty simple, I ask that anybody who's interested in a cat to write in with their own background info. I just ask for some sense of their living and work situation and what kind of history they have with pets. I think it's pretty reasonable. You know how many people respond in kind to these questions? Maybe 20%. Everybody else sounds evasive or just plain stupid. One person said "I don't divulge my financial information to strangers." What? Did I ask for your W-2s? No, I asked what you did for a living. I've had my share of Craigs-List paranoia, but come on. I guess people think if I know they live in a studio apartment somewhere in Manhattan that I can leverage this hot info and swear out some credit cards in their name.

I guess some people think of pets on Craigs List the same way they think of the Free Stuff section: if they respond first they'll get the gear, no questions asked. You always know when an adoption isn't going to work out when their first questions is "How much is the adoption fee?" That should be the LAST question they ask. Then you get other weirdos who write you a novel initially about how much they want a cat, but despite all the content, they don't actually give you any other useful info except that they're leading very sheltered lives.

Anyway, I couldn't be happier about this latest adoption. Izzy was far too sweet to spend his life outside, and the guy adopting him seems like a good fit (Izzy was all over him the moment they met). But it underscores how random this thing can be; Izzy's ad was put up Thursday and now he's got his person. Meanwhile, poor Spike continues to languish on the vine, despite a PR campaign full of cute photos, amusing videos and clear-eyed testimonials. Meanwhile, a simple black cat gets snatched up like he was dipped in chocolate. If Spike knew, imagine how appalled he would be!

Labels: Adoption, Cats

In an effort to both clean up this site a little and cross-pollinate my stuff, I edited this home page slightly. I've added a list of cats we have up for adoption, which I assume I'll keep updated as needed. Now, normally we only advertise for cats who are currently under our roof, and several of these cats are not technically residents. But they live right outside among the ferals, but have proven themselves tame and friendly enough to warrant a mention. I've also included longtime holdouts Augie and Marbles; I don't really think they'll get adopted as they are really bad at selling themselves ... and we've sort of gotten attached to them in the meantime. But hey, if the right people come along, who knows? So that leaves Spike and Haley as 'classic' adoptable cats, living with us but with every intention to move them out once we find a decent home.

Spike is still with us, we've decided he can only go to a home as an only-cat. He just doesn't get along with other cats well enough. He's a real people-pleaser otherwise. Haley finally got spayed a few days ago, so she's all set. I'm having a hard time describing her personality since most of the time we had her she was in heat. She's very different now that she's not constantly rolling around yowling, holding her butt up in the air and running in place. Time will tell.

You may also note Ainslie on the adoption list, he's a recent TNR guy who just decided to reveal how tame he is as well. I kinda figured he was tame but I thought it would take months to win him over. Naw; just a plate of canned food did it. The number of tame cats around is setting a dangerous precedent (namely, our house full of tame cats) so we're trying to be more aggressive with the adoptions. If we can't find a good home for Spike, we're campaigning to get him in on an Empty Cages Collective Adoption Event, which have a great track record for finding homes. Haley will also get in on this, although there's a waiting list for getting in. How New York.

Labels: Adoption, Cat Fixin', Cats, Empty Cages Collective, Good Stuff, Strays

I can't believe how hard a time we're having in finding a home for Spike, the white Angora cat we took in a little while ago. We keep getting weirdos who string us along for weeks and then disappear right at the moment they're supposed to come meet him in person. I keep thinking it's one person who keeps using different email addresses, but unless they're spoofing IP addresses all over the city, it's separate individuals. Super lame. I think people think they will respond to an adoption ad and then, minutes later, go to an undisclosed location to pick up their briefcase full of kitty. Come on, people, we've got to at least attempt to establish some background before handing out cats. Oh well, try, try again.

I wouldn't mind so much but you see, we're all full up with cats. I know I've said it before but summer hasn't even begun and we've got cats everywhere. Two of the back yard cats who were presumed to be feral have turned out to be more tame and friendly than the indoors cats! So we gotta find them homes as well.

And then there's Haley, a young cat we trapped a little while ago. We'd never seen her before the night she turned up in the trap. She also turned out to be very friendly, but was skin and bones and sporting a hugely infected abscess which manifested itself as a big hole on her shoulder. She recovered from her injuries at Empty Cages Collective, and once she was well enough, we brought her back home to finish her convalescence. She still needs to be vaccinated and spayed so she's kept separate from the other cats. It looks like we'll have to wait until the end of the month to get her spayed; we could get fixed sooner but it would require getting her ear tipped. And I don't wanna do that anymore if at all possible, not for tame, adoptable cats.

Meanwhile I have been having a helluva time getting this guy to come out and give me an estimate on replacing our back door, but he finally made it over yesterday (2 hours late). We're also probably putting a fence in, and THAT guy has been giving me the runaround for weeks. This is not even mentioning the first fence guy who came over, duly measured the yard and discussed options, only to never ever call me back with an estimate. What's up with that?

In an effort to bridge all my problems, I am in the process of teaching the cats to build a fence and replace a door. Results have been mixed so far, they have a lot of energy but I'm having trouble finding tools small enough for them to hold.

I'll be back when I have something interesting to report!

Labels: Adoption, Cat Fixin', Cats, Empty Cages Collective, House, The Yard

I just finished a huge project at work and am loath to do anything else productive today, so let's catch up. We're back on the foster cat wagon, this time with a stray who showed up in the yard recently. We've been calling him Winger but we may change that to something more appropriate as we learn his personality. And that personality is evil.

Well, he's not exactly evil, he can be very sweet. He loves being petted and will roll all around and sit in your lap and let you carry him around at length. But before you get to do this, you'll get the hissing of a lifetime! He hisses more than any tame cat I've ever seen, it's almost like he doesn't know what hissing means. His new thing is to let me pet him for a while and then when I turn to go he hisses viciously and swats at my leg. I understand that maybe he doesn't want me to go, but jeez, learn some manners, buddy!

He has a variety of other behaviors that mystify me, like how he won't eat all of his food at once like all my cats (obviously he's never lived on the street where every meal could be your last). He won't play with the string-on-a-stick toy that has converted even the stodgiest feral cat. He meows with a hoarse, hollow sound not unlike the wail of a ghost.

But I have a new theory that explains nearly everything about him: he's an evil supervillain's cat. It makes perfect sense, evil supervillains love long-haired white cats, and some of their personality is bound to rub off on their pet. Who knows what happened to this guy's evil owner? Dropped down a chimney? Frozen in space? The mind reels. So now the real trick is, where do evil supervillains go to adopt their evil sidekick cats?

Possibly a futuristic, mobile adoption device, hell-bent on the uncompromising, total adoption of every cat in the 5 boros? Yes. It's the North Shore Animal League Mobile Adoption Van, coming to the corner of N. 7th & Bedford in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, this Saturday at Noon. Step out of the L train station and see a big-ass bus loaded with mostly Empty Cages Collective cats and kittens. Our man may be there if there's room, but I need to de-evil him a little more to make him tolerant of non-evil adopters.

Labels: Adoption, Cats, Empty Cages Collective

I keep forgetting to blog, or ramble on at length, as the case may be. Now that I can't access blogger from work I rarely post, since when I'm at home I am fulfilled with litterbox-scooping and cat-medicating. Our newest foster cat is actually with the vet right now, we suspect he swallowed something indigestible or he has some kind of virus. I really hope they figure out the situation fast, not only because I hate to think of him stuck at the vet's but also because they charge an ungodly 'boarding' fee for overnight stays. Not to belittle the industry but damn, vets have it made! They can basically charge whatever they want and almost never get called on malpractice. That, and the fact that their charges can't complain about their bedside manor. I'm selling them way short, and if I wasn't so squeamish about guts I'd probably be one, but again, damn!

Anyway, back to blogging, the increased filtration by my company's network finally forced me to learn about aggregators, so now I happily use Google Reader to read most sites; this allows me to read all the blogspot blogs I like, nicely circumventing the ban. Of course it makes your blogroll look like a bunch of spammy emails and you realize that once you strip away the photos and fancy layouts, most blogs are kind of boring. Especially when you can't read the snarky comments, that's where the real action is most of the time. Lucky for me, Brownstoner is still unhindered by my network's prejudices, those guys crack me up.

I should take my site off Blogger anyhow, since they've been deleting people's music posts without telling them. But again, why would I use up my free time doing computer stuff better suited to my hours on the clock? Anyhow, I think I might be able to blog this site directly through Flickr ... there may be a lot more pictures on this site soon!

Labels: Bad Stuff, Cats, Job, Web

It's been 5 months since we last adopted out a cat. That was Shaolin, who actually wasn't in our home for very long at all, she was an easy adoption. But before and after Shaolin we had been experiencing a relative dry spell in adoptable cat turnover in Chez Legs. When we first started adopting out street cats, they went fairly easily. In those days we had many kittens; and when one would get adopted, more would show up to take its place. We even adopted out some of the adult cats, although it should be noted that cats like Gladys weren't even full grown themselves.

We worked on adopting the tame cats, and started in earnest with TNR, trapping as many of the feral cats around our block as possible, getting the fixed and vetted and returned to our yard. Things were going so well we started taking in cats that we knew weren't as appealing to the mass market. But we had found a home for cats like Baby-Bones, the Cat Who Hates People; we figured we could find a home for all the stray cats.

So we took in cats like Marbles, the tough street momma who likes to sit at the bottom of the stairs and hit each cat as it runs down. We also took in Bishop, who actually claimed his place indoors by showing up with a sprained leg, which took months to completely heal. And we took in Annabelle, the cat who had brought several of her kittens over to us, but who had always been too skittish to stay inside with us.

While we were trapping the ferals, Annabelle got caught in a trap. At the time we hadn't seen her for months and weren't sure what happened to her. Once we had her, we decided that we would try to tame her to make her into a house pet. It wouldn't be easy, not because she was violent or mean, it was because she was so paralyzingly shy. So we let her acclimate to the house and miraculously over time she started to come around. She let us pet her and soon she was coming up to the couch and staring at us until we reached down to rub her head. I started gingerly picking her up and placing her on my lap; the first few times weren't pretty. But she liked being petted so much she would allow this for brief periods. Then one day she jumped onto the couch with us. Soon she was sitting on our laps with such tenacity that she wouldn't get off until you literally stood up straight.

Finally, she started sleeping in the bed with us. Like most cats who experience beds with humans, she attacked our toes. It was interesting to note that it's mostly kittens who do the foot-attacking thing, and Annabelle is at least a couple years old. So I guess that's more of an experience thing. Who knows when her interest in this will run out.

We had Annabelle for almost 10 months. I honestly didn't think of her as an adoption cat. Although it's not like we hadn't tried. We had been advertising on Craig's List for months, for her, Marbles, Bishop and Augie (the newest cat to come indoors), all to no avail. CL has always been very good for us to find decent folks, but the combination of timing, having only adult cats and the fact that more and more people were advertising adoptables on CL resulted in no inquiries.

At some point about a month ago, I saw that the blog Gowanus Lounge was looking for adoptable cats to post on their site. I sent over bios and photos of all 4 cats, and they got posted on the site over 2 weekends. I didn't really think it would amount to anything, but I wanted to feel like I was touching as many bases as possible. By this time I had also put the 4 on Empty Cages Collective Petfinder site.

So the GL posts came and went and then Craigs List seemed to pay off: two people were interested in Annabelle. I started in with them but the situations weren't not ideal and nothing ended up happening. When these deals ended, I went back to thinking we'd never adopt out these cats (and this was not necessarily a negative thing). But then I got an email from a woman who was interested in 2 of our cats.

She had seen the posts on Gowanus Lounge and was looking for two adult cats to adopt. She and her family owned an entire house in Brooklyn and were partial to the adult cats, not just because they are less destructive than kittens, but also because they knew how hard it is for them to find homes. They came over to meet the cats and we tried to do our best to get Annabelle to perform. She did reasonably well (that is, she let them see her), but certainly wasn't getting into anybody's laps. Bishop also made a good impression, but he's pretty much comfortable wherever he is.

We agreed that they would make great cat owners, and last night they came back and picked up Annabelle and Bishop. I'm so happy they get to live together, if any two of our cats would go together it should be them. Ananbelle really likes other cats so I'm especially glad she won't be alone. I feel sort of bad (as I do in most of these adoption scenarios) that her last memory of our home is me grabbing her and throwing her into a cat carrier and handing her over to strangers. But I try to mitigate this with the knowledge that she's going to one of the best households we've encountered in all the 17 cats we've adopted out so far. In New York City, you can't expect people to have huge houses with staircases and spare closets to hide in. Usually they're lucky if they have enough room to run around in without running into stuff.

It may take time, although I hope it's less than the 10 months we had her, for Annabelle to adjust. I'm hoping that we laid the groundwork for her to appreciate human company, even if it's not us. I always thought she had been a house cat who was abandoned and just needed a refresher course on house living, but the longer we had her the more I believe she was a true wild-born feral cat, albeit one who had the capacity to believe that humans might be useful for something. Either way, she's come an amazing distance, and it was pretty hard to look around the house and know I wouldn't be seeing her around anymore.

So this means we technically have only 2 cats left to adopt out, and who know when that might happen. Yes, we have two other nonresident cats, the semi-feral kittens we took in, but they're still a long way off from being ready to adopt, if they ever will. It feels odd, then, to have so *few* cats to adopt out now. Of course just over the weekend a new cat was spied out the front window, so who knows how long this lean time might last.

Labels: Adoption, Cats, Good Stuff, Pets

Empty Cages Collective is having another adoption event at Muddy Paws in Greenpoint. When these guys started doing TNR work around the city, I'm not sure they knew they would end up with so many adorable, adoptable kittens on their hands. While many of these kittens were born on the street, they were trapped while young enough to be properly socialized to humans so they grow up to be totally normal house cats. Because of this, ECC couldn't bear to drop these kittens back on the street, so they put themselves in the adoption business!

So if you're in the market for a kitten, swing by and pick up a few. If you're in the market for some adult cats who have had the benefit of socialization in my home, check out these 4 charming cats!

Labels: Adoption, Cats

The other day I heard the whining of a cat. This is obviously not that unusual around my house, but it was coming from outside. Which okay is also not all that unusual. But anyway this whining was more pained or forlorn or whatever, so it got my attention. I looked out and saw a black and white cat on a stoop across the street, crying at the door. The cat looked suspiciously like Marbles, who also used to sit on various stoops before we took her inside. It seemed pretty clear it lived in the house and wanted back in.

As I watched the cat, the neighbor next door to the cat emerged with their enormous Rottweiler. The dog is a fairly docile female, obviously not one of the 'bad' Rotts. But still, she's a big, big dog. The guy brought her down and started walking her down the sidewalk, oblivious to the cat. The dog immediately snapped to attention, pulling on the leash to try to get closer to the cat. The guy, skinny and generally unhealthy-looking, was having a lot of trouble controlling her; he pulled with all his strength and still the dog inched forward.

I don't even think the dog had an malicious intent, she just wanted to get up closer. It yanked the guy right over to the stoop, within a few feet of the cat. Now here's the funny part, the cat stood its ground and fought back!

You shoulda seen this little cat, all arched-back and puffed-out tail, hissing and growling at this enormous dog, rearing up and spitting. This was either one tough cookie or one stupid feline. The dog still leaned on the leash, the guy still struggled to pull her back to the sidewalk. Eventually he got the dog to walk further down the street. I figured the encounter was over, but a minute later they were heading back, but now the guy had a tree branch in his hand.

The cat was still on the stoop, and so the dog was still straining to get at it. So with one hand trying to hold back the dog, the guy starts swatting at the cat with the stick! The cat growls at him but doesn't run away, it just stays out of arm's (stick's) reach. The guy keeps swinging the stick, forcing the cat over to the areaway. Now he's trying to hit the cat by sticking the stick through the bars of the fence. The cat is hiding under some patio furniture, but keeps coming out as if to taunt the doofus. It would have been hilarious if he hadn't been serious.

By this point he's really trying to hurt the cat. At first I thought he was trying to shoo it away so the dog wouldn't be distracted, but now it's pretty obvious he's locked in a battle of wits, and he's unarmed. Except for that stick. He's swearing at the cat as his blows hit nothing but the neighbor's grill; the cat may actually think this is all a game. This guy is the same brain surgeon who got into an argument with the mailman a couple weeks before, resulting in a block-long shouting match as he questioned the mailman's manhood the further he got down the street.

So I'm trying to figure what to do. I want to go out and hit the guy in the head with a brick. I decide to try a passive method, then escalate if necessary. I go out on my stoop with a broom and start sweeping up the leaves (needed to be done anyhow). The Brave One shuts up right quick, drops the stick and disappears inside with the dog. What a douchebag. Did it even occur to him that his neighbors might not like it if he were to bash in the head of their pet? It's assholes like this that give the neighborhood a bad name. The guy's on my shitlist from now on; I've got a tree branch with his name on it.

I'm pretty sure everybody on the block knows about me and our cats, so I'm sure the guy got the message just from me coming outside. I went to check on the cat, it turned out to be a female kitten about 6 months old! What a little sparkplug! She kept on whining, so I brought her over to my stoop and gave her some food. She sunned herself for a while and then left. I didn't see, but I'm hoping she got back in her house. If not, she at least knows where to go if she gets locked out again.

Labels: Bad Stuff, Bushwick, Cats, kittens

We have plenty of cats we need to get adopted, but here's one of the few kittens in Brooklyn we DON'T actually have in our house currently. This little girl's name is Grey Eye Kitten, apparently following the fostering naming convention so you don't get too attached to the animal (see Big Giant Head and Littleface). The kitten's fosterperson found her near her Kensington home and just had to lend a hand.

Her person set up a blog all about her, so head on over if you're in the market for a babycat. I, myself, prefer my cats big and ugly but Cat Overpopulation means we can all find that special void-filler. GEK is about 6-8 weeks old, healthy but has tested a weak positive for FIV. However, this is by no means the end of the world; many kittens give false-positives for the Virus at this age; she'll have to be tested later on to confirm or deny the illness. so please don't let this stop you from considering adoption, it's almost a non-issue.

My experience has mostly been with street cats, feral and otherwise. In this arena, many groups actively denounce the act of FIV testing. Although this is in part due to the high cost of testing, it is also because it's not worth it for many other reasons. From Alley Cat Allies:

Kittens that test positive are not necessarily infected. If a kitten tests positive, the test may be detecting antibodies passed from an infected mother to the kitten through colostrum (an antibody-rich fluid secreted by nursing mothers). Positive kittens under six months of age should be retested between eight to 12 months of age, when any antibodies obtained from the mother cat will have disappeared.

So in fact, GEK's positive test may literally mean nothing at all. Let's hope that's the case!

UPDATE: The kitten's been adopted! I am arranging to ship several of our cats to her house right now.

Labels: Adoption, Cats, kittens

I usually post during the weekdays here, but I have been stymied in my efforts lately. As you may know, my company was bought out by another company some months back and we are finally being switched over to their network. This has been pretty annoying all around, but everything has been hammered out now and I enjoy full access to the many wonderful opportunities that await me at the new company.

Sidebar: I'm getting so sick of the way office people use the word "opportunities" when they really mean "failure." Instead of saying they screwed something up, they always say they see "areas of opportunity" like they did somebody a favor.

Anyhow, one unfortunate opportunity in this regard is that the new company apparently thinks blogger is dangerous to productivity and has it blocked. This will either have the result of finally, after 5 years at this, to move this operation fully to the server instead of using Blogger's infrastructure. Or maybe I won't bother.

Even worse for me, Flickr is also blocked. I hate that. Half the time I spend during the day is checking to see if anybody has posted new cat photos! Hey, to thine own self be true. So I'm thinking maybe I'll get one of those nifty iPhone things and write it off as a business expense.

In any case, all this upheaval will culminate with me moving offices yet again, a little further downtown. For some reason, nobody is able to tell us when exactly when we will move, but I hope they give us at least a few more days; my cubicle is full of cat food I need to lug home still.

On the home front, I am happy to report the Mugsy (pictured above with perennial worrywart Freddie) is feeling much better and is back to looking like his usual disheveled self. Thanks to Empty Cages Collective, I got some Lysine gel to add to his food, which appears to have helped him fight off the infection. He still could use a good powerwashing but this is about as good as he ever looked.

Labels: Cats, Feral, Job, Tedium

Mugsy is not gonna win any Cat Fancy awards, but he's one of our favorite feral cats. He's gotten a lot sweeter since we callously trapped and castrated him, which makes me think we should start doing this to people who bug us as well. It's tough love! Anyway, he usually hangs out in our yard with his boyfriend George. He has his own chair under the gazebo tent, a disheveled patio chair with a hair-matted cushion on it. He comes by every day. Or I should say, he did come by every day.

Last Tuesday he abruptly stopping showing up. George still came by to eat, but he seemed like half a cat without Mugsy. Of course, he's a feral cat and by definition they don't have a home and are therefore sort of entitled to wander wherever they want. But it seemed increasingly strange that this one wasn't showing up. Frankly, where would he go besides our yard?

So I climbed through the fence in the back yard and started looking for him. It was a dumb idea, like a feral cat is gonna just sit there and wait for me to walk up, o hai. But I thought maybe I could get some idea of what had happened to him. A feral's life is hard, often brutal and usually short. I half-expected to find his dead body in the bushes, guarded by George.

Behind our house there is a run-down rectory and a recently-resurrected church (bad economy = holy rollin' weekends). The rectory house appears to be unused and we often joke that the cats live inside it. Beyond the church, the rest of the block is houses in a variety of styles; right next door is a 6-family frame house. I crept behind the church, simultaneously trying not to attract attention and acting like I was supposed to be there.

I went past the church to the 6-family house. It's in a pretty sorry state, the best thing about it is the relatively new plywood panels boarding up all the windows (still I'm not entirely sure that people aren't living there). Just as I rounded the corner, I saw what appeared to be George's distinctive tail disappearing under the corner of the house. I knelt down and could see a hole just below the aluminum siding, just big enough for a cat to fit through. All joking aside, these feral cats have their own damn house!

I didn't have a flashlight so I couldn't see much more. But I figured if George was in there, then Mugsy was probably also there, if at all. There wasn't anything I could do but hope he would show up again. Just over a week later, Mugsy did return, his eyes crusted mostly shut from an upper respiratory infection, but otherwise unharmed. I can't figure out how he survived all that time, but there's probably water in the house, and who knows, maybe he was catching mice.

God help the local cats if the economy recovers enough that somebody fixes up this neighborhood, where will all the cats live? Don't answer that.

Labels: Cats, Feral, Neighbors, The Yard

The folks who provided us with so many cat-related services over the past few months need your help! Now that summer's upon us, all those cats that they didn't get to trap, neuter and release have had kittens, and a whole slew of them are shacked up at their recovery space in Williamsburg. Dubbed The Empty Cages Collective, they're housing some 45 cats in their warehouse, and they need to get some of these critters in some decent homes!

To that end, they are having the first of possibly several adoption events, this one at The Beehive Salon on N.7th Street. From 2-6pm on Sunday. Come meet the shining stars of their gaggle, from lil baby kittens to adult hard-luck stories. I'm hoping to stop by if I can, though I normally avoid shelters and related adoption centers, if only because I have such little willpower when it comes to taking in animals (I walk the long way around the Petco to avoid the homeless cat adoption area, which I'm sure makes me look like a dick to them).

Meanwhile, we're helping to lighten their cat burden by taking a displaced feral cat to our back yard; we'll be assimilating him into our ragtag colony over the next couple of weeks. But unlike last time, we ensured this cat is truly a feral and so he will not end up in our house.

I'm hoping to be able to advertise our foster cats on ECC's new Petfinder site, and of course if any of you are interested in a little (or not so little) bundle of joy, check out our own list of cats. But if you must have tiny kittens, head to the salon on Sunday.

Labels: Adoption, BARC, Cat Fixin', Cats, Good Stuff, kittens

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

6/10/2008
Brooklyn, NY

MR BONES, of Brooklyn, NY, died on Monday from an unspecified illness. Long considered one of the most photographed cats in the 'blogosphere, MR BONES was admired for his wide girth and human-like social skills. Though shunning the companionship of fellow members of his species, he demonstrated an uncanny ability to cultivate human companions and to extract from them expressions of admiration, if not awe.

MR BONES was born in the vicinity of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, in either September or October of 2001, still a question of some debate. After a hardscrabble early life in the streets, delis and parking lots along the western edge of the BQE, he found his way to the humble storefront abode of one Buzz McKinnon, inviting himself in and using his charm and charisma to extort food, shelter and water from the tenant. Inexplicably, and in short order, he was able to convince McKinnon to offer him permanent asylum, in spite of McKinnon's cat allergy and lack of competence. MR BONES' first litter box, assembled from household materials, was a cardboard box lined with a garbage bag. After the bag was shredded, McKinnon finally realized that a trip to the pet store was required, and soon caught on.

From Williamsburg, MR BONES traveled to residences in Clinton Hill, Bushwick, and finally to Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Featured on countless photoblogs, MR BONES gradually came to renown. Cat owners, upon seeing his likeness on the Internet, began feeding their own cats double doses of fatty foods in an effort to remake their own pets in his image. Ironically, MR BONES himself was on a special diet, dubbed the "Lance Armstrong Diet" by McKinnon, a reference to the cyclist who famously measured his food consumption down to the millimeter. Attempts at reducing the big cat's weight were for the most part fruitless, leaving veterinarians all over the borough stumped.

Collecting many friends and admirers, MR BONES settled into a life of luxury. In 2007, he quickly adopted McKinnon's wife Sylvia, and extended his sphere of influence.

A photo memorial is being organized, to be posted on the web at a soon-to-be-named location. "Thank you all for your generosity to MR BONES over the past six years," said McKinnon through a spokesman. "If you have some photos of him, please send your favorite one to buzz (at) motico (dot com). I'd be much obliged."

"You should think of MR BONES as an angel," McKinnon continued. "Just picture a big white cat angel with tiny wings and you're in the ballpark."

_________________________________

By the way, I didn't write the obit, but it sums up a lot of what I'll miss about Monsieur Bones. He could be grumpy and obstinate but his singleminded personality was a balm for a world that throws so much crap at us all the time. I am pretty sure I'll never meet another cat like Mr Bones.

Labels: Bad Stuff, Cats

Okay, I have a lot of cats, but I maintain that I haven't lost all touch with reality. However, should I ever find that my cat obsession overwhelms all other aspects of my life, losing me my girlfriend, job and acquaintances, at least I can still meet other like-minded shut-ins:


PURRsonals.com appears to be less of a dating service for cat lovers as it is a beard service for closeted gay men. At any rate, what a ridiculous, sure-to-fail concept. Unlike, say, jedidating.com.

Labels: Cats, Funny to Me

Note to self: If you take a bunch of cats into your home, eventually some of them will get sick and then you not only have to clean out 60 litter boxes several times a day, you have to administer medication, somehow serve different types of food to cats without the wrong ones sticking their face in, and eventually make vet appointments. One of our street cats, Bishop, showed up limping, and several days of rest in the house have not helped much. So he's going in for what will not doubt be an expensive endeavor to diagnose and treat his malady.

Cheeks the elderly cockatiel has also seen his share of vet action lately. He's developed cataracts, so we took him to one of the better bird docs in the city, which involved taking a car to midtown, missing half a day of work, and blowing lotsa dough. Now we come to find out that he needs a second-opinion blood test to make sure he doesn't have gout (!) so he too is heading to Ridgewood this evening to get checked out.

Meanwhile, there's the little cat pictured above. We've been calling her Shaolin; she can be calm and centered like a Buddhist monk, but suddenly, and without warning, she can turn to ninja assassin mode. She'll be sitting peacefully on the couch, but when another cat enters her line of sight she will jump and race across the room, delivering a barrage of swats while yowling like a malfunctioning theremin.

She's too small to actually inflict any damage on the cats phsyically, but it's very disruptive as it leaves a trail of confused and irritated pets in its wake. We've been trying to teach her not to attack by putting her in the bathroom for 5 minutes at a time every time she does, but so far it ain't sinking in (repeated viewings of Supernanny have proven of little use when it comes to disciplining felines). But we're starting to see why this sweet little kitty may have been abandoned to the streets.

What makes her behavior more bizarre is that she can also be super affectionate to other cats. She's given both Jefe and Flossie a good grooming, only to later pounce on them when they entered the room. Lucky for them, she's ironically docile enough to let me cut her nails, so her blows are less potent. Anyway, she'll be going to the head of the adoption list, even though she's been nothing but nice to us humans. Clearly, the cats are running the show.

Labels: Animals, Cats, Health, Pets, Vets

UPDATE: So I come home last night in anticipation of taking in these 3 cats only to find Baliff's room empty and a big hole in the window screen. I had opened the window to diffuse the scent of cat spray and the damn cat poked a hole in the screen and bolted! What an ingrate. I put the trap back out but he didn't go for it. As soon as I find him, I'm a neuter him myself!

- - - - - -

I took a break from the TNR work for a while, but in the last couple of weeks a new batch revealed itself unto us, and we were again moved to strike. Also we met some like-minded individuals who live a couple blocks away, and have been providing them with hardware and advice, leading to the incarceration of 3 cats. Meanwhile we captured 3 of our own, although this group differs from the usuals. While one seems to be a real feral, the other two appear to be tame housecat types, though somewhat worse for the wear being on the streets.

The latter are Baliff and Bishop, two black cats who look like brothers and may be related to the little black female I caught a little while ago (they all seemed to show up around the same time). In a fit of optimism I brought in these guys and stored them in adjoining rooms of the house. They immediately sprayed all over the place, rendering the house a vile and inhospitable place. Thanks, guys!

But it's all in a day's work, I thought. Then I remembered, I've got a big damn cage in the back yard that could have held at least one of them. Oh well, I have a gallon of Nature's Miracle, whose motto is, I believe, "60% of the time, it works ALL the time." Lucky for me, my allergies have been acting up so I can't smell anything anyway. But it's making the other cats act funny. And speaking of the other cats, here's who's left to adopt out:

As you may know, we've taken Merc inside since he's proven himself to be friendly. We've been calling him "Truffle" mostly because we just watched 2 entire seasons of Top Chef and apparently adding truffle oil to anything makes it better. And so it goes with this guy, he's a hoot. He'll be ready for adoption any day now, just hoping to get him a little less skittish. And get him to stop chewing on my fingers (???)

And then there's Annabelle, the sad-eyed Decatur clone. She has really come out of her shell, but she has yet to make that real transition into lapcatdom. I think she has it in her, she chases me down to get petted, she's just very flinchy. Hmm, "Flinchy," that's a good cat name!

Finally, Marbles seems to enjoy pounding on the other cats. She will sit at the bottom of the stairs and bop them each on the head as they run down. I bought a clicker at Petco and per the Salon article about The Cat Whisperer, I've been giving her treats and clicking when she does something good, which already has had an amazing effect. She's been docile and limiting her quarreling with the other cats! It's probably too soon to tell, but this training crap might actually work!

Labels: Adoption, Cat Fixin', Cats, Feral

Last night we had a guy come over to look at adopting Valentine. He has a Siamese cat and wanted her to have a pal. Valentine is part Siamese so it seemed like it could be a good match. She put on a good show, being cuddly and playful and all that crap people like cats for, but the longer he observed her, the less he was sure she would work out. That's when his attention shifted ... to Baby Bones.

There may have been a touch of black market feel to the encounter: he asked about the cat and I basically said, "Nah, he's just for show, this one's not for sale" which no doubt piqued his interest. In reality, we never thought anyone would want to adopt Baby Bones.

One of 3 kittens born to Gladys that we took in way back in September, Baby Bones was named for his resemblance to another roly-poly cat of legend. His brothers were all adopted out, and we kept waiting for him to come around, to get used to humans and become a regular house cat. All his brothers had more or less made this transition and moved on; Baby Bones still ran under the chair when you tried to pet him.

Days stretched into months as we tried many methods to get him to like people. We tried toys, treats, exciting cardboard boxes. He loved them all, but rarely let us touch him. But he loved the other cats. He was so into cats that he became our ambassador for new arrivals.

Whenever a new cat was introduced into the household, he would be first in line to meet them, hoping to find a new playmate or at least somebody to sleep on. We think he really helped speed the process of socialization for several of the cats, who had been used to cats on the outside but not humans as much. His presence took the edge off while they got used to the idea. Unlike him though, they all eventually 'got it,' and now enjoy a good human or two. He was the feline equivalent of one of those companion animals they get to keep race horses calm.

So by March, Baby Bones (whom we tried to rename "Dreidel" or "Dray'dell" but it didn't really stick) seemed a lost cause. We still tried to get him to sweeten up, but nothing much worked. We assumed we'd have to keep him forever, and that was okay. The other cats liked him and he put up with a lot of abuse from them. It didn't even cross our minds anybody would want him.

Then this guy shows up and realizes that what he most wants a cat for is not himself, but his own cat. His cat used to have cat roommates who moved out and was now very lonely for feline attention. Getting Baby Bones would be like giving a cat its own cat as a pet. So we grabbed him and put him in the carrier and off he went.

And to think, we were thinking of dumping him at Jeannie's sister's place to fight it out with her crabby calico. At one point we seriously considered adopting him out to the guys at the Silent Barn, the semi-legal show warehouse on the other side of the neighborhood. There were dark moments when one of us was heard to utter "Let's just put him out back with the feral cats," but I'm sure that was in frustration after hours of trying to get him to understand that petting is a good thing.

We are totally floored that the guy would want to take him after all we've been through. But he knows his way around a cat. He got Lucy to fetch a toy mouse without even trying (this is after we said she was probably autistic because she seems unaware of her surroundings). So if anybody can make him come around, it'll be him. Good luck, Baby Bones!

Labels: Adoption, Cats

My company is now officially another company. Whoopee. The last week has been super annoying, the kind of week that makes me want to push people's buttons just because you know you can quickly have them as annoyed as you are. This is the kind of week that you almost wish for a crowded subway, just so you have an excuse to elbow a stranger in the ribs. Luckily, this is a wish I don't have to hold my breath to get on a regular basis.

I supposed over all the transition has been pretty smooth, I just have lots of tedious stuff to do, people pushing me from all sides even though none of them really know what they want. They just know somebody is supposed to be doing something, so everybody's been running around like their hair's on fire, if only to look like they know what's going on.

I skipped a company party to pick up some TNR cats from the shelter. It's times like these I suspect my priorities need to be reevaluated. But then I remember that trapping wild cats doesn't adequately fund the lifestyle I enjoy that has proper resources to trap and hold feral cats. Then I shut up and I get back to work. You should get back to work too.

Labels: BARC, Cat Fixin', Cats, Feral, Job, Office, Strays, Tedium

This is Prince, formerly Rudy, formerly Rusty, formerly "Hey Gladys has ANOTHER kitten out there!" I'll try to request some newer pictures of him, since these (on the right) were taken a while ago. But I only recently learned how to extract photos from a cellphone. Rudy was a great little kitten, one of the three produced by Gladys that we took in. He was the most gregarious of the three brothers, the first one to let us pet him, the first to sit with us on the couch, and the trendsetter for all the kittens we took in over the summer. They say orange tabbies are naturally sweet (like raisins), and so far my experience has been right in line with this. While his brothers scurried off in fear, he would come up to us and eventually became pretty much like any other house cat.

He still had his feral elements: easily spooked, and as of adoption hand-over he didn't like being picked up. But he was well on his way to being a very nice cat otherwise. It may be hard to tell in the photos how he's changed because by the time he left he had gotten pretty big, and had attained a grown cat's proportions. So in photos it's hard to tell how big or small he really was. He'll always be remembered as one of my favorite fosters, he really helped the other cats learn to like humans and made our house full of cats not seem so much like the irrational activity it often feels like.

Labels: Before and After, Cats, kittens

That's the newest feral to fall into our clutches. I'm pleased that it's a female (I think), because that means getting her spayed will stop her from having any kittens, PLUS female cats are much less likely to spray. This is in some ways the biggest plus of this whole TNR thing, a reduction in cat musk. I don't know what evolutionary side street this noxious stuff came from, but in sufficient doses it's every bit as horrible as skunk odor. My neighbor had a cat mark his front door and he tried to remove it with an ammonia-based cleanser. Big mistake; the ammonia actually makes it worse!

Anyway, enough cats (for now). I put this photo up because I didn't take any pictures at the Market Hotel, where we saw Black Dice play last weekend. It's the newish venue above Mr. Kiwi's, below the Myrtle JMZ station.

What's good about it:

• 3 train stops from my house, meaning virtually no pesky walking in getting to and from venue.


• Fairly smart staff/residents, who keep an orderly line and know when to cut off entry so as to avoid a Shirtwaist Fire situation. There were maybe a couple too many reminders about not hanging out in front of the club, but when we left there were indeed a bunch of stupid people loitering right in front and drawing undue attention to the joint.


• Bar served Budweiser, which, I know, is a lame megabrewery, but Bud is easier to stomach than, say, Busch, which for some reason has become the only beer available at these places. I need to bring that flask, but it's nice to put a little more money back into the venue.


• They had a coat check! It looked like they were just throwing coats on the floor of the room, but points for trying. I am not at all certain the place has any real heating source of its own, the heat being provided by the 500+ people in attendance (Matrix-style). Since we can never leave a venue until the proprietors are meaningfully sweeping the floor over our feet, it was notably colder and a coat was warranted.

Not so hot:

• This is debatable, but the place is really big. That sounds like a good thing, and for most I'm sure it is. But for me it was a bit cavernous. The sound was actually pretty good, but I guess I just prefer tiny clubs (as long as they're not crowded). Maybe this is why so many bands I like never make it; if I like your band, you're probably playing a small club to few people. Oops.


• It's getting a lot of attention and has booked some larger shows: How long can it last before a) it attracts huge, lame crowds or b) it gets shut down?
  

Not so hot this weekend for the Ghengis Tron show: Queens-bound JMZ trains are not running between Myrtle and Broadway Junction. shuttle buses take their place on Bushwick Ave. Okay we could probably walk it and not die. And it's just the Queens-bound side, so getting there is no problem. But if the show runs late the likelihood of catching a bus is slim. Of course, shuttle buses can be surprisingly frequent, but I'm still dreading it. I guess we could take a car home, but that's even lamer to consider.

Labels: Bands, Cat Fixin', Cats, Feral, Mass Transit, Shows, Venues

Labels: Adoption, Before and After, Cats, kittens

This one may not be as impressive, since the cat was more or less full grown when we first took her in. This is Gladys, who became the first stray to be taken in for the express purpose of spaying her and adopting her out. She showed up over the summer, with a litter of kittens somewhere on the block. She was super skittish at first, but quickly warmed up and started entering the house, mostly to play with cat toys and growl at the other cats. Once a resident, along with her 3 kittens, they doubled the number of cats in the house, which at the time felt overwhelming. Ha. When not threatened by the other cats (or her own kittens), she was an awesome cat, we had misgivings about adopting her out, but it was the correct move considering how many more cats would follow suit.

We got some interest in her on Craig's List, and had a woman come to see her. Gladys didn't 'show' well: She was being super lame, feeling that all the attention was suspect, and didn't really display her more endearing qualities. Lucky for us, the woman's friend had lots of cat experience and could see she was worthwhile, so Gladys ended up moving to a cat-free house in Gowanus. She's reportedly much happier, which seems evident from these photos. She loved sleeping on the bed, but because of all the other cats, she usually ended up having to beat a hasty retreat, growling all the way. Now she gets to hog the bed 24/7! It's funny to look at these pictures now, previously I thought of her as somewhat roly-poly, but here, if anything, she looks skinny. Maybe my perspective has changed since our cats are several pounds overweight now. Gotta start a Kitty Gym.

Speaking of cats that don't get along so great with other cats: 'Mona' the lovely little gray and white cat has finally been adopted! She will be picked up tonight and taken to her new home on the north side of Bushwick. I like it when the cats get to stay in the vicinity, I don't know why.

Labels: Before and After, Bushwick, Cats, Strays

Today's entry catches up with the cat formerly known as The Instigator. He was the most precocious one from Lucy's litter, the first to walk, talk, and annoy the humans. It was pretty amazing how quickly he picked up on pretty much everything ... except the litter box. That skill eluded him for a while, until we put some potting soil in the box, then some primordial instinct kicked in. Aside from that, he was very smart, getting into stuff, climbing up the bed, and teaching the other kittens how to wreak havoc. He's grown into a carbon copy of his mother (at least before she got big and fat), sharing her angular features and 'saddle' of color on his back. He also has dots on his nose like Lucy, which didn't develop until later on.

Francis, as he known now, had this move he used to always employ: "The King Kong." He would approach a toy or littermate, rear back on his hind legs, and raise his arms wide over his head, to give maximum damage to his opponent. It was over-dramatic and he usually paused so long in the air that by the time he hit, his target had moved. Anyway, it was one of several moves he did that we'd never seen a cat do before. Since then, however, we have noted The King Kong in Lucy, plus several others. So I guess he really does take after her. But at least he seems a bit more "in the moment" than Lucy, who still seems a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic.

Labels: Adoption, Before and After, Cats, kittens

This handsome devil wasn't long in our household, or more accurately, when he was here he didn't spend much time in the limelight. We called him Shoehorn, an unflattering name, but again, we didn't want to get too attached to these guys! He was a total doll the whole time we had him, never made a fuss, just napped and played quietly. I actually don't know that he made a sound the whole time he was here! We got some update photos a while ago, and I wasn't even sure if was the same cat, he was so grown up. Frankly, I spent some time matching the fur patterns to be sure; indeed it was Shoehorn. He's called Lynx now, a much more appropriate name to illustrate his big, tufted ears. I'll have to tell his owner that we have since caught his BabyMomma (we call her Daisy now), who looks so much like her son it's like he's a clone.

Labels: Adoption, Before and After, Cats, kittens

I finally got around to compiling some of the photos sent to us by people who have adopted our cats. I don't have pictures for all of them yet, but I'll be posting these from time to time. It's so interesting to see what some of these cats end up looking like. Obviously, the younger they were when adopted, the greater the difference in the later photos. Today we feature two cats from Lucy's Famous Litter, the kittens Lucy had over the summer that launched us into the bizarre life we now lead.

These two fellas used to be known simply as "Big Giant Head" and "Little Face," the two ginger toms of the bunch. When they were little they looked very different (as evidenced by their names), but as they grew it looks like they got to resemble each other a lot more (honestly I have trouble telling who's who in most of the new photos, except for maybe the one at the bottom.)


Now they're Santino (Sonny) and Fredo. Oddly, I do feel that Big Head does look a little like Sonny from The Godfather. But I feel Littleface more closesly resembles Johnny Ola. So they seem to be doing pretty well, huh? Stay tuned for more before & after cats!

Labels: Adoption, Before and After, Cats, kittens

After some 4 months, our last kittens have been adopted. Even though there's still a million cats here, it's noticeably quieter since they decamped for their new home in Cobble/Boerum Hill. The remaining cats don't exactly miss them, but they are acting differently, they seem to need more attention from us, where previously they had the kittens to distract them.

Roxy was the kitten who came the farthest. When she first came in, she was wild and freaked out by the indoors. She hid in the basement a lot of the time, and would dash out of the room any time a human came near. But after a while she realized we were no threat and started tolerating us. This eventually turned into actual affection, though it was almost always on her terms. IF she didn't feel like getting petted, zoom! She took off. But she became a lovely little cat, with a bit of that manic feral behavior.

Tumbleweed was our survivor. He didn't show up until a few weeks after Roxy (and their other brother Chester the Russian Blue). It was November, and he was scrawny and sick. We nursed him back to health; it was touch and go for a while. But he turned it around and before we knew it he went from being the runt to being the bigger than Roxy. At first we weren't even sure if he was from the same litter, but as he put on weight, his resemblance to his siblings was unmistakable, as was his rapport with the other kittens.

After a few false starts, we finally found a couple who wanted to take a pair of young cats. It's much more difficult to get people to take 2 cats at once, which is too bad since I think cats generally do better when they have pals around (that's the whole raison d'etre of this house!) We've previously only given one other pair away, two of Lucy's kittens. And in that case, the people hadn't planned on taking two, but were so charmed by them they ended up taking two so they wouldn't take three! But 2-month old kittens are a whole 'nother story compared to cats over 6 months.

Anyway, we have adopted out something like 11 cats so far, and have 4 more to go (one of which is more or less spoken for). If we're lucky we'll have them all out by the summer kitten season!

Labels: Adoption, Cats, Good Stuff, kittens, Pets

I can't wait for this week to be over! so much annoying stuff going on with my job; I think some of my coworkers spend all day, every day attending meetings. They do nothing else, just go from meeting to meeting, all the time. This is my theory, anyway. They don't mind meetings that stretch on for hours, they never need to take a breath, they just keep on talking. And god help you if they get near a video projector. Anyway, that answered a lot of questions to me as to why it takes so long to do stuff around here: everybody is in meetings all the time. Or conference calls. It's unbelievable.

Meanwhile, the TNR train keeps on truckin'. Our 7 ferals are back on the street, and seems to be no worse for the wear. Some, like Grumpus, even seem friendlier than they were pre-surgery. Last night, Grumpus was eating by the window, I reached out and petted him. He didn't even flinch! Makes me think he may not be a real feral, which is sort of sad. But he's got food and he's got shelter (storage tub!), so he's doing all right.

Traps are being set again, to catch whoever we can in advance of Saturday's TNR action. BARC is again hosting the Snip Truck, and can take a lot of cats, so we're gonna try to catch the few remaining stragglers fixed. This will be run much like the Mobile Spay Unit Days, if you have a non-feral cat, you can get it clipped for $25. The cats have to be there by 9am Saturday, no food after midnight Friday. They truck will be there, so let's fill it up. I suspect 15-odd cats we've altered so far may not in fact be all the unfixed stray cats in Brooklyn.

Ironically, I find all this cat-trapping, carting around, and urine-cleaning to be less stressful than my day job, even though I get to sit in front of computer, hardly moving all day. Except when I'm running from one meeting to the next.

email me jimmy at jimmylegs.com if you need more info about fixing your ferals or house pets. I think they do dogs, too.

Labels: BARC, Cat Fixin', Cats, Feral, Mobile Spay Clinic, Strays, The Yard

A total of 6 feral cats and one indoor cat are being fixed over at BARC right now. After Wednesday's bumper crop of 4 (Grumpus, George, Blue and Tuxedo), I set up the 3 remaining traps and by bedtime we had two more (Mugsy and Baxter)! This worked out well, as Jeannie had literally said she wanted to catch these very two cats for her birthday, which is today. It could only have worked out better if they had gift-wrapped their traps.

They were not happy campers; Mugsy, especially, was crazy, rolling around in his trap and generally making an embarrassing spectacle of himself. I put them in the cellar for the night and when I came back in the morning, both had calmed down quite a bit. It's like they accept their fate or something. Or maybe a night sleeping in a warm house far outweighed any resentment they might have felt.

I dropped them off with Tumbleweed at BARC, I'll be picking up the latter after work. The rest will go home on Saturday. I don't think they'll care, but I feel a little bad sticking them right back out in the yard after spending several days in a climate-controlled environment. but hey, maybe they'll actually use the cat condos with some frequency!

Through this all, Freddie the Outdoor Cat oversaw the process. Despite apparent hunger, however, she avoided all the traps, even though it meant waiting on getting fed. I don't know if this proves she's smarter than the other cats or what, but I'm glad we didn't have any false-positives by finding her in the traps.

There will be one more Spay Day on Sunday, so I'm gonna keep trying to trap cats. Off the top of my head I know Chauncey, BabyMomma and Marbles are still out there. Cauncey is owned by somebody, but they let him run around unfixed. Marbles also appears to be owned by some people across the street, she too is unaltered and has been pregnant twice in the past year, though her litters mysteriously disappear long before they should. So in any case, these cats ought to be fixed.

Pictured above is Tuxedo (never thought of a catchier name), the lone female we captured. Females are either smarter or naturally more suspicious, so we don't get many to the yard. But I'm glad we got her, as I'd seen her (from a distance) with child several times over the past year. Getting her spayed will put a real dent in the local cat population. I hope!

More photos of the SoBu TNR

Labels: BARC, Cat Fixin', Cats, Feral, Good Stuff, Mobile Spay Clinic, Photos, Strays

Tonight I am meeting up with some good folks who have been doing some TNR (trap-neuter-release) work in the neighborhood. I'm borrowing some traps and setting them up in the back yard, in an attempt to capture some of the feral cats that hang around. Once fixed, they'll recuperate in BARC's warehouse space, and then they'll be returned to the yard, no longer a burden to society. That is, if we can catch any.

These cats seem pretty smart to me. Will they fall for the trap? What's more, what if one cat does get caught and the others see it happen? Will they put 2 and 2 together and steer clear? They will be baited with tuna, and i didn't put any food out for them this morning, so I'm hoping they will come around as soon as we show up. If they don't go for it right away, I'm not sure what we'll do. I'll be home tomorrow, so maybe I can hang around and deliver the cats once they become ensnared in my clutches.

I just hope we get the cats that actually need to be fixed. We have two cats, Freddie and Big Jon, who are already fixed, but not yet ready to live the pampered lives of indoor cats. Unfortunately, they strike me as the likeliest subjects to get caught. Oh well, I'm sure some time in the hole with give them much-needed insight.

Labels: BARC, Cat Fixin', Cats, Feral, Mobile Spay Clinic

The cats and I managed to survive standing around in zero-degree wind chill for two hours Monday morning and are now spayed. Roxy was crazed from the anesthetic, when i released her from her carrier, she ran around the room like it was electrified, variously falling down or slamming her head into the walls. I should have left her in the carrier, but she had been in there several hours and was supposed to be well past the point that she could come out. But she is small for her age and is normally really energetic, so maybe they gave her too much kitty chloroform. She eventually ran out of steam and laid down, but not without injury. She had a big red welt under her eye from running into the door. I felt really bad for her, but she seems to be okay now and is coming around. She even seems to be a little more tame than pre-surgery, hopping onto the couch with me and allowing us to pet her.

The other cat we took in is doing fine, sans histrionics. She has been sleeping a lot on the top floor of the house, where nobody will bug her. We've been trying to think of a name and wanted to continue the recent trend of antiquated proper nouns we've been ascribing to the other cats we've taken in. So far the calico cats we've had have been named: Gladys, Lucy, Flossie and Roxy. I like these old lady names (though Roxy has a slatternly bent to it) and the new cat has a similar deportment as Gladys, making her a prime target of some doily-fringed moniker of old.

With a little googling, we found lists of the most popular baby names by decade. Focusing on the names of the 1910's, I was surprised to find not only every one of the above cat names, but countless others that were downright bizarre. You know how people like to poke fun at nontraditional "black" baby names? This list proves how there really is nothing new under the sun.

The list is taken from some kind of database that lists each name by actual number of babies born that decade. Of our already-named cats, Gladys leads the pack with 4,778, Lucy has 1,564, Flossie has 328, and Roxie (close enough!) with 166. There's a lot of good old-lady cat names that we'd heard of on the list, but a whole slew of them were unknown to me. A sampling:

Avis, Bernadine, Birdie, Bulah, Dessie, Dovie, Effie, Elda, Elfrieda, Elnora, Era, Erna, Essie, Eula Nettie , Exie, Fern, Florine, Floy, Germaine, Gussie, Hattie, Hertha, Hettie, Ila, Iola, Iona, Jettie, Juanita, Leola, Leota, Letha, Ludie, Luella, Lula, Mafalda, Mamie, Mattie, Mazie, Melba, Merle, Mittie, Mozelle, Myrtice, Myrtie, Myrtis, Nedra, Neva, Novella, Ocie, Ola, Oleta, Ollie, Oma, Ona, Ora, Orpha, Otilia, Ouida, Palma, Pearlie, Retha, Reva, Rilla, Theda, Tressie, Vada, Verda, Vesta, Wava, Zella, Zona

Those are just some that caught my eye, there's a lot more on that list. And these aren't individual examples, either; the list excludes names with less than 29 instances. My personal favorites are Elfrieda and Floy, though neither seems applicable to this cat. We've been rotating a series of names off the list, since she wouldn't know her name from a hole in the ground anyway.

Labels: Babies, Cat Fixin', Cats, Funny to Me

So we took in another cat.

We really didn't want to do this, but this little girl (as it turns out) had gone into heat outside and was being swarmed by the local males. The other day I went out back to find 5 males trying to get behind the woodpile in the backyard. She was hiding back there, not completely unresponsive to their overtures. I tried to shoo them away, but they barely budged. The mating pheromones are powerful indeed. Anyway, I grabbed the cat and brought her inside.

She is absolutely tame, which makes me wonder if she doesn't belong to somebody. But then I think, well, what kind of pet owner lets their cats out in the dead of winter and doesn't even get her spayed? Of course, this is the same city that produced the Nixmary Brown case, so you can imagine how far down the scale pets would rank for some people.

'Lola' is very sweet, if a bit unsure what to make of us. She's probably not even a year old, though almost full size (which is still pretty small). She has Russian Blue-style fur, making me wonder if she's inherited any of the lovely disposition the breed is known for.

The ASPCA will be at Saratoga Park on Monday morning, so she'll get fixed right up and no longer be a burden to the neighborhood cat population. The kitten Roxy will also be getting spayed, which will hopefully put an end to the 3 am howling sessions that have been plaguing us for the last couple of weeks. Anybody want a cat(s)?

Labels: Cat Fixin', Cats, Feral, Strays

Whoa, what a long week. We've been preparing the house for our visitor all week, which was a lot more work than I thought. And now I'm not even sure the house looks that much better than it did before (there's only so much a broom and a sponge can do when you've got mismatched moldings and poorly-patch ceilings). But things should be stable enough to weather a couple of people coming over for a few days.

Speaking of visitors, Mugsy the feral cat showed up after disappearing for almost half a year. We assumed he was dead, but as you can see he's as beautiful as ever.

We have a bunch of brochures for stuff to do this week. Lucky for us, we haven't done anything culturally-relevant since moving to Bushwick. We'll probably go to that Bodies exhibit, even though I think it might make me hurl. There's another brochure that advertises a "Tour Simulator," some kind of IMAX type thing with footage of the city. I love the idea that people travel here from all over the world then see a simulation of what they ostensibly are here to see.

Last weekend, our interior designer Sean (so named because we keep furnishing the house with stuff he's throwing out) lent us an Xbox plus a bunch of games, so that should keep everybody occupied for at least a half-hour. I still can't tell the difference between the PlayStation and the Xbox; the Wii still seems like the most fun, but I usually get broed with video games after a couple days anyway. What's really fun is ... building cat shelters!

This weekend I am hoping to finally assemble the shelter I ordered from FeralVilla, it's basically a 2-story, shingled-roof house for cats. If the cats don't use it, I'm moving in.

Labels: Cats, Feral, Strays, The City, Vacation, Video Games

We've had Flossie inside since the middle of October. Soon after she was in, we noticed she seemed to put a lot of weight on, in two prominent bulges on either side of her stomach. Yay, more kittens! But lately we had begun to question that diagnosis. Flossie kept wandering around the house, howling louder and louder, later and later. The howl is particularly distinctive in both its volume and its creepy, primal resonance. We tried to convince ourselves this was just some weird pregnant cat behavior, like a woman craving pickles and ice cream. Then she starting spraying vertical surfaces. Such weird pregnant cat antics!

Finally, the truth could no longer be denied when Jefe started humping on Flossie. Well, he tried to hump her. He's fixed but when he's around a female in heat, he does his best to oblige. The resulting scene is like a cross between a nature film and watching someone backseat drive: Jefe tries to figure out what to do while Flossie scolds him for not getting the job done. We didn't stop them; we were actually hoping to get a little peace and quiet! No dice.

Lucky for us, the good ol' Mobile Spay Clinic would be pulling up to Saratoga Park on Monday morning. Lucky for Flossie, too, as I was ready to strangle her after her 6-hour howling session last night.

A hint to those considering availing themselves of the Mobile Spay Clinic's services: bad weather = no line! I went over at 7:15 and was the first person in line. Only about 5 other cats showed up; consequently, I had Flossie dropped off by 8AM, and she was back home by 11! Now that's efficient! They also cut her nails and vaccinated her. This whole operation is far superior to what I went through with Baby Bones last week (two trips to the vet, tons of money blown, same result). Flossie's recuperating and I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep for once.

For those keeping score, we have had 3 cats fixed by Mobile Spay, 2 fixed at the retail vet, for a grand total of 5 cats fixed (and 9 cats adopted out)!

Labels: Cat Fixin', Cats, Mobile Spay Clinic

the last 3 posts have been non-cat-related, I figure I'm due for some catblogging! We are down to a total of 7 cats within the household, down from a grand total of 12. And 4 of them are residents anyway, so we really only have 3 more cats to adopt out!

Chester went home last night, he was a total angel pretty much the whole time. He's moving in with another Russian Blue, maybe it'll be like the Ugly Duckling in reverse, he'll be all like "What's this? There are other cats as beautiful as am I? Heavens to betsy!"

As for the remaining kittens, we have leads for both Tumbleweed and Baby Bones (the latter of whom is currently getting neutered). Baby Bones has been here so long he finally hit puberty and has been running around humping all the other cats, which they disturbingly don't seem to mind (even the boys). If this all goes through, it will leave Monkey, who is probably just fine with that.

Monkey is the only female of this batch, and has never really gotten over her skittishness. She lets us pet her and doesn't even freak out when we pick her up, but she hasn't yet 'asked' to be petted; she can take us or leave us. things are complicated by the fact that we have her mom (Flossie) in as well. She can sort of depend on her for all her mothering needs, reducing us to food-bringers and string-shakers.

But if Baby Bones can find a home, there's hope for us all! He's still got issues too, but he's finally come to the conclusion that people might be okay. He's running a full month behind his brothers on that tip, but who's keeping track? I am, that's who.

Of course, all this cat stuff ignores the other side of the fence, the outdoor cats (which, if you add all indoor and outdoors cats currently under our tutelage it's more like ... 12). Since I put out my upgraded cat shelters, they have been occupied not by the cats I built them for, but two cats new to the patio. One is Grumpus, who looks mean but actually seems very nice. The other box contains a young gray and white cat of indeterminate sex. I have another cat condo on the way, I'm hoping regular visitor Baxter will take advantage, or (God Forbid!) Freddie, the Outdoor Cat We Kidnapped From Clinton Hill.

I don't know where she spend her nights but she comes for food every day and is way more affectionate now than she was as an indoor cat. I had hoped she would use the cat-house but apparently she's too good for that. We still theorize she breaks into the abandoned church rectory behind our house, which I must admit beats the hell out of a storage tub lined with Styrofoam.

Labels: Cats, Feral, kittens, Strays, The Yard

Tomorrow Rudy goes to his new home. To the left is form the first night we saw him, September 13th. It took another month before we got him and his brothers inside, and another month to groom him into respectability. I am sad to see him go, and I wonder, having never had an orange tabby before, are they known for being especially friendly/playful?

He still has some feral characteristics, like not liking being picked up, and scattering at top speed if he think he's been caught doing something wrong (like sleeping in the bathroom sink). But otherwise he's been a great little cat, though maybe not so little anymore.


He is basically 3x the size he was in the top photo. All the older kittens have grown amazingly, which is fascinating, although I fear it will make the last of the brothers a tougher sell. But you can look at them and tell they've still got plenty of room to grow, they have that puppy look, their paws are too big and they have this general appearance of transition. I suspect he's gonna be enormous by the time he's done.

When he's gone we'll have his brother and three smaller kittens. The remaining brother, Baby Bones (at right, we're considering renaming "Newman" since he's a little like the Seinfeld guy) will be on his own, I'm not sure how he'll cope with it. He's been the hardest case so far, keeping his distance from us and not getting into the whole 'house cat' concept. But he's making progress: he finally learned how to take cat treats from my hand, and he now allows limited petting when he's on the bed. I think when he's without his brothers (Ira went home last weekend), he'll have no choice but to come around. He better!

More Photos of all them kittens

Labels: Cats, Feral, kittens, Photos

So Tumbleweed the kitten went to the vet and after a lot of poking and prodding, he was deemed disease and parasite-free. I guess this is one of those situations where I will be glad to get this confirmation form the vet, and not focus on the money I just blew to have this guy tell me he's fine. In fact, form the moment we brought him home, he started acting better, playing and eating more regularly.

He still lacks the vigor of some of the other kittens, but he's getting better. All the other cats like him, especially Rudy (pictured) and Jefe, who groom him and play with him without getting too violent. His personality is already perfect, as soon as he puts on some more weight, he'll be ready to go.

Speaking of going, Gladys and Ira departed this weekend to their new homes. Rudy was supposed to go but his owner had to reschedule for next weekend. Fine with me, he's a lovely little cat. This week I'm focusing on finding Chester the Russian Blue a new home, and working on his sister Monkey to get her better socialized. She had taken to hiding in the basement a lot, so we're trying to force her to deal with us more directly. Meanwhile our other hard case, Baby Bones, has been letting us pet him under the right situations, which is a huge step in his development. If things keep up at this pace, we'll be all out of kittens in a couple of weeks. The house already feels empty but it will be good to have fewer felines running around: my allergies have been going nuts lately.

I haven't considered myself allergic since I was a kid, but with the dander of so many different cats present these days, my fragile system can't keep up. The upside is it forces me to clean house way more often than I would otherwise, but it's never enough. I keep thinking about getting one of those little air sanitizers that you wear around your neck, but I'm walking a pretty thin line already. If I become the Crazy Cat Guy Who Wears an Air Conditioner Around his Neck, I'll never be able to leave the house again.

Instead, I'll stick with being That Guy Who Looks Like Moby To Drunk People. While out the other night these people came up to me and asked for my autograph. I explained I was not in fact Moby, but then they said they didn't care and wanted the autograph anyway. I thought they were joking, but then another guy came up and excitedly asked, "Did he sign??" So I signed on the condition that they give Mark a cigarette. Would the real Moby do that?

Labels: Cats, Funny to Me, kittens

Two cats have technically been adopted out! Shoehorn, now named Lynx, is off to the other end of Halsey Street, to join a Bengal cat and a monitor lizard. And even more exciting, Gladys has found a permanent home in Park Slope! I have been so worried about her chances for adoption since she's basically an adult cat. I mean, in reality she's probably not more than 9 months old, but in the high-stakes world of pet adoption, everything seems to be "Young/Small Rules." Gladys is, to me, the cutest cat in our stable, but because she's grown, I feared she would be a hard sell. And indeed, when people came to see her, she didn't disappoint. That is, she DID disappoint.

She's a super sweet cat, and getting sweeter all the time, but when people came to see her, she didn't take the attention well. The other cats were all over the place, which unnerves her. Plus she's probably not used to having so many people stare at her, while I frantically try to get her to do something amusing. But luckily, her new adoptive mom was able to see through Gladys' aloof act, and will be picking her up on Saturday. For a moment there, we were down to single digits for total number of cats! For a moment.

They same night Lynx/Shoehorn went to his new home, his mother paid us a visit. We hadn't seen her in a while, and she's very skittish so she never stays long. But she brought with her ... you guessed it! Another kitten. This one is clearly not her kitten, it's far too young. It is possible it is one of Flossie's kittens, but it seems unlikely she would have left it out to fend for itself so young. The new kitten is a dark orange tabby, can't be more than 10 weeks old, and is skin and bones.

When he showed up, he was a total mess, dirt all over the place. So we gave him a bath to at least restore some of his dignity. He was a total mush for the bath and aftermath, we rolled him in a towel and help him in our laps to keep him warm. He purred and napped for most of it. When he dried sufficiently, we laid him, in the towel, on the couch between us. He rested some more ... then experienced explosive diarrhea.

I feel so bad for the little guy, he kept pooping uncontrollably for the rest of the night. He's getting better already, but it's gotta be demoralizing for a cat. He's had dewormer so I'm hoping it will clear up shortly. But he's such an adorable little furball, we're really hoping he pulls through fast so we can get to pimping him out (in a good way). His fur, even when clean, sticks out like straw, so we've been calling him Tumbleweed. What's one more kitten, more or less, right? Right?

Don't forget: tomorrow night MOTICO plays Goodbye Blue Monday at 10PM! You know you want it. Plus you want a kitten. Several kittens.

Labels: Cats, Feral, kittens, Motico, Shows

Labels: Cats, kittens

We're gearing up to start moving some of these kittens. I just realized that the oldest kittens have gotten really big in just the couple of weeks they've been here. It's been years since I got to watch a kitten grow up, so I don't remember if this is normal. But they're like 2/3rds the size of their own mom already! Their increased size, plus the fact that a couple are still not very tame is making me nervous. But I'm going to start posting to Craigs List soon to look for possible adopters. Perhaps somebody out there would be interested in a work in progress.

Then again, I hear about people adoptign cats, then wanting to return them for reasons like "he always tries to get outside" or "he scratched the furniture." Considering that declawing is still standard practice for many cat owners, I sometimes think maybe they're better off on the streets. Unless of course those streets are anywhere near JFK.

I'm thinking of dumping a thousand rats on the JFK tarmac; that'll learn 'em. Anyway, if you're interested in kittens, check out CL over the next few days! And come ot the Motico show tomorrow at Trash Bar! We're on at 10pm, giving you plenty of time to egg the neighbors' houses before heading out, but still getting you home in time for Conan.

Labels: Cats, kittens

Another week of kitten training comes to a close, some progress has been made. Ira finally let me pet him, and Monkey seems braver. Still, she prefers to hide in the kitchen cabinet; a drawer is missing so she hops into the opening and hides among the pots and pans. The weird thing is when we look in there for her, we can't find her! I don't want to move things around too much for fear of smooshing her, but there don't appear to be that many places to hide. I suspect she's hiding under the wok.

Not sure exactly when we'll start trying to adopt these guys out, Gladys is on the auction block now but we're only getting scam responses so far. It's always gonna be easier to farm out kittens over adults, which is really too bad. Truth be told, I don't think I like kittens all that much, they're too small to pet satisfyingly, they have trouble comprehending the intricacies of the litter box, you're always this close to stepping on them, and their personalities can be summed up in the thought, "Is that string moving? OMG!!!"

But they're cute and deserve a chance to make it. But since most people out there looking for cats seem to think kittens are better because they're somehow fresher or something (like bread!) I gotta get on the adoption circuit right quick or the older kittens will be too cat-like to get anybody's attention.

Then again, if there really was a market for adult cats, people who wanted one could do what we did: open the window and watch them stroll inside like they own the place!

Labels: Cats, Feral, kittens, Strays

Over the weekend, we brought in Gladys' kittens for a heart-warming family reunion. WRONG. Gladys is totally sick of her kittens and growls at them whenever they come near. Apparently this is part of the process, she has to cut the apron strings for fear of making them mama's boys. But it's sad seeing them call to her and see her hiss like they were a pack of wolves.

There are 3 kittens in all, I fear the 4th kitten didn't make it as we haven't seen it in weeks. They appear to be about 3 months old, they're getting big but have had very little human interaction, so they're jumpy and distrustful. Except for the orange kitten.

He's been making great progress, he loves being petted and even jumped into my lap last night. His two tabby brothers, however, are not getting the idea just yet. I'm trying to get them to understand we're not a threat it's slow going. But they aren't cowering in the corners or anything; they are as underfoot as any house cat, they just scatter faster.

Flossie (pictured above impersonating a hard roll) has been hanging around a lot, prompting me to think it was time to take her to the Fixin' Station. But she went out one night and brought back two kittens to visit. One was a mostly-black calico, the other was a Russian Blue. Wow! They are about 6 weeks old and total badasses (they let me pet them but growled the whole time). They didn't stay but I'm hoping she keeps bringing them back, they should move fast off the adoption shelves.

Which is what we intend to do with Gladys' kittens as well. But I'm wondering if I should start pimping them out now, while they're still somewhat young. Are there people out there who want the challenge of taming semi-feral kittens? It's kind of a pain, but it's been rewarding, at least with the orange kitten. I fear that their chances for adoption drop significantly when they get to be full grown, so I'm keen on getting them out of the house toot sweet. This would be better in the long run anyway, since my taming might not stick when they have to go to a new house. I wish cats could understand English, so you could just explain why it's in their best interests to get with the program now!

Labels: Cats, Feral, kittens, Pets

The weather is starting to change and the local stray cat population is starting to go nuts. Maybe these events aren't related, but the cats I know around here have been getting goofy lately. Gladys is recovering nicely from her surgery/vaccinations, she's gone outside a couple of times but seems to be content to stay indoors (what a surprise). The resident cats know not to mess with her, lest they be subjected to piercing screeching. She may not like the other cats, but she rarely has to tell them twice to keep their distance.

But the otherwise-outdoor cats have all but built one of those things you put up against a castle wall to storm the gates or whatever. Flossie, who still is believed to have a litter in the parking lot across the street) comes to eat and never wants to leave. The gray tabby who we always mistake for Decatur has become bolder as well, and Gladys' 3 remaining kittens are getting especially intrusive.


The orange kitten crossed a behavioral threshold the other night, suddenly not only tolerating being petted, but coming up and asking for it. He's still skittish, but otherwise he's ready to be a house cat. His brothers are less advanced, but they see him getting scratched under the chin and are probably thinking about it. I feel bad for the most fearful of the three, he sits on the windowsill and cries at Gladys. But Gladys seems to have forgotten she ever had kittens, she barely looks at him. Luckily he has the companionship of his brothers to assuage his woes. I keep trying to explain to them that it's in their best interest to get tame right now since the younger they are, the better adoption-fodder they are. Even Gladys may be a hard sell, since she's an adult more or less, and Flossie will probably only appeal to people who have a soft spot for special needs cats, or old ladies (I mean, Flossie would be good for an old lady, not people who are into old ladies).

Anyway, I need to begin construction on some bad-weather cat shelters. Lucky for me, I live in a neighborhood literally surrounded by 99 Cent stores, so it shan't be hard to pick up some big storage bins. But I gotta relocate some of these cats to the back yard; I get enough needling from the neighborhood kids as it is without having the areaway full of cat condos (lately I've been getting "Dude! Kitty, kitty, kitty!" in my direction.)

I'm also doing other stuff, including but not limited to preparing for Motico's first shows since last year! Basically we're practicing a lot and I'm trying to find new stuff to add to my rig to cover up for my lack of proficiency.

Labels: Cats, Feral, kittens, Neighbors, Pets, Weather

Columbus Day unexpectedly aided in my dream of getting neighborhood cats fixed, I had planned to take the day off yesterday so I could take Gladys the stray cat to the Mobile Spay Unit, but it turned out I had the day off anyway! Hooray for imperialism and whatever they had that parade for!

Things went smoothly, I got there at 7 to make sure I would get a spot; I signed on as #16 on the list (max is 25). Gladys was very well-behaved, even in the presence of an excitable German Shepherd on line. When we arrived, the van hadn't arrived yet, so when it showed up we all had to follow it until it found a place to park. It took a good hour to get Gladys dropped off, but they finished quickly and I was allowed to pick her up at 12:30.

She was super loopy, wobbly head and falling down in the carrier a lot. I moved her to a small enclosed room, she seemed to be taking things well considering she had just had major surgery. She's been sleeping heavily since then, but is still very affectionate and demonstrative when we come to see her. She so wants to be a house cat, she's acting like getting locked in a room with nothing but a ratty old futon in it is the pinnacle of her life's work; she doesn't seem interested in leaving at all. We're trying not to be swayed by this attitude.

Next on the list will probably be Flossie (calico pictured above), but as you can see there are still lots more cats to deal with around here. This new kitten showed up the other night, we assumed it's the offspring of the gray tabby, but the kitten stuck around the house, sleeping under our stoop for the next couple of days. I don't think the kitten is more than a month old, I'm surprised it's being left alone like this. But maybe now negligent mother cats know they can abandon their children here with no consequences. I feel like Kevin Federline.

Labels: Cat Fixin', Cats, Feral, kittens, Strays

Whoa, what an annoying week! It's like a delayed reaction from getting back from the vacation. But the first week back was okay; this past week, however, has been horrendous. Things are cooling down again, but work continues to threaten to spill over into my personal life, if only because I am constantly haunted by the memory of the tedium even when I am home.

I take my revenge by hoarding office supplies, I'm taking home a bunch of hanging file folders to go in the ultra-cheep filing cabinets we bought at the Rite Aid. Our intention is to get our affairs in order so we actually know where all our important documents are. This will free up countless shoeboxes in the basement, which can then be used for diorama-building purposes.

Speaking of useless activities, MOTICO is about to renew its contract with America, we actually have a couple of shows booked in the near future. I suspect most people think we've broken up, but you see, that's exactly what we wanted you to think! Anyway, we're playing on Halloween at the Trash Bar, and on Nov. 8th at Goodbye Blue Monday. Hey, that'll be our first show in our neighborhood! Mark your calendars.

In cat news, Gladys' kittens are slowly becoming more comfortable around us. Yesterday a couple of them jumped inside the house and were scurrying around for a while. Most of the the time they stay on the window sill while I try to ply them with a string tied to a stick. The orange kitten will let me briefly pet him, so he'll likely be the first one to turn. Meanwhile, their Moms is totally trying to act the part of a house cat. To that end, on Monday I'm gonna get her fixed, as the Mobile Spay Unit will be back in the neighborhood. The kittens are old enough to be on their own now, so I don't think they'll miss her. This could be tricky, since she is still an outside/stray cat. But she comes by with such regularity I should be able to snag her Sunday night and keep her until the appointment. One by one, I will fix every cat on the block!

Labels: Bands, Cat Fixin', Cats, Feral, kittens, Motico, Pets, Strays

We are back from the Virgin Islands and dealing with all the shit that has been hitting the fan since we left. As they have been warning us for the past year, the parent company who owns my division has sold us out to some other company. This happened in the middle of my vacation and since nobody can be trusted to handle anything while I'm gone, I found myself at an internet cafe inside a tourist spot in Charlotte Amalie, posting boilerplate statements from the CEO and whatnot while people played pool and drank all around me (okay, I was drinking too).

Ultimately, this 'transition' as they constantly refer to it, probably won't be that big a deal, it sounds like everybody will get to keep their jobs, though they might just be telling us that so nobody freaks out prematurely. Other than this ground-shaking stuff, we have all the usual post-vacation blues of having to catch up on work and dealing with having to get up every morning in a sub-resort quality home full of cats who are not as accommodating as the ones we spent the week with.

Actually, the cats are fine. They all weathered the week well, it seems, even the outdoor ones. One of the kittens has already been by and there's even a new kid in town: a big orange tiger cat. We'd seen him around but in the past week he seems to have befriended the locals. He's fixed, so I think it's just the neighbor's cat (he was previously spotted darting into a window down the street). Jefe has a lovely new habit, however: he grabs the roll of toilet paper and just starts biting it, ripping out huge wads of paper which are all over the bathroom now. Jeannie noted that it resembled the act of rending meat from the bone, maybe he misses the chicken wings upon which he used to subsist on the streets.

Anyway, we took nearly 400 photos, which I am going through now (so far 50% seem to be of the little lizards which run all over the place there). So I'll soon have a whole album/write-up of the experience, but in short: the folks who put us up are now our favoriteist relatives ever and we intend to spend much more time with them in the foreseeable future. And I'm not just saying that since they let us stay in the super fancy deceptively large house in the middle of a subtropic island which contains those white beaches you see in postcards and the cheapest liquor I have ever seen (where else can you buy a liter of Bombay Sapphire for $13?) It was a great time all-around, in every way pretty much the polar opposite of New York City (in a good way on both sides).

Except for the stray cats! There were only a few, but each one corresponded to stray cats we have here, which was pretty strange (there was a calico whose markings matched Flossie's unusual patterns, AND is currently nursing a littler, just like she is). So we felt at home. Anyway, I gotta do all this stupid work now, I'll talk more about the trip shortly. Work sucks.

Labels: Cats, Good Stuff, Job, Vacation

After the debacle of trying to capture kittens the other night, I have been afraid we spooked them so much that they wouldn't come back. Well, we still might have over-spooked those two kittens, but the original kitten returned last night, along with a totally new kitten (pictured above).

I haven't seen this little orange guy at all among Gladys' kittens, but unless he's a tag-along, he's just lat to the party. He ate some, then lurked in the shadows for the rest of the night.

His brother (I think) turned up and basically ate an entire can of cat food himself. Jeannie was able to even touch him briefly; he's not easily scared and usually comes right back if something makes him run off.

We gave him a catnip mouse and he grabbed it and ran outside with it. I saw it out on the areaway later in the night but this morning it was nowhere to be found.

Before I went to bed I shined a flashlight into the storage space under the stoop. I could see that Gladys had climbed back there (she's still small enough to squeeze through the gate door), I assume the kittens were with her. When we left this morning we checked and saw only the orange kitten sleeping there. This works out pretty well as we can leave food there and the bigger cats won't be able to get at it.

We're going out of town next week, which means Matt and Sylvia get to feed all these cats. It's one thing to do it yourself but you really do see how ridiculous it is when you have to train others to keep up your insane antics. But still, we gotta feed these kittens! I hate to lose a week of possible socialization time with them, but there should still be time when we get back to give 'em the My Fair Lady treatment and dole 'em out on an unsuspecting public.

Labels: Bushwick, Cats, Feral, kittens, Strays

The kitten-snaring is proving to be more difficult than I originally thought. The kittens keep coming back every night but they won't stay inside. Yesterday I came closer but even this instance was anticlimactic.

First of all, my girlfriend was set to return in the early evening, so I had been cleaning up the bachelor-pad aesthetic around the house, going to the store, etc. She came home just as Gladys was wandering around in the are way. Our reunion was punctured by the sounds of a cat howling like a stuck pig. Gladys was antsy but not the source of the noise. Then Jeannie noticed tiny cat feet poking out under the door inside the stoop stairs.

Most townhouses that have a stoop have a small storage space under the stairs. I had been noticing that a lot of moisture had been collecting inside it, so the day before I had opened the door to facilitate evaporation. Well, it seems Gladys moved at least one of her kittens inside! The problem here was that earlier in the day I had closed the door again, unknowingly trapping the kitten. It turns out that Gladys is small enough to fit through the holes in our gate door, so I never even realized what she had done.

The trapped kitten was the female, white with orange spots. She scrambled out from under the stoop and joined her mother. Gladys convinced her to hop onto the windowsill where some food was waiting. The kitten went in, and I came from outside and shut the screen behind her. The kitten did not like this one bit.

She jumped into the other window and repeatedly tried to push through the screen. When she realized she was stuck, she whined and hissed a lot. We brought her food, which she ate voraciously, in between hissing and spitting at us. Oddly, she did not once try to scratch or bite.

So, we had one kitten on the premises. As though she understood the drill, Gladys went out and lured another kitten over (I think the other two kittens were back at their original site from down the street). The kitten approached the open window and I again tried to shut the screen behind him. However, this kitten was ready to throw down. He dashed through window and I just caught him as he ran past. I picked him up, whereupon I received two really deep scratches to my hands. I opened the back door and threw the kitten in (where he was met by Lucy and Jefe). I thought we had him, but instead of immediately closing the screen I stupidly went inside. The kitten saw his chance and zipped out the open window.

So now we had one kitten in hand, who although eating well, was shooting us daggers from her windowsill. The second kitten was gone and probably super freaked by the experience. Gladys was outside again, freaking the female kitten out because she was looking at her from the other side of the screen. Eventually she came in and comforted the kitten, before heading back out again. We waited in vain for her to return with more kittens. she came back several times to eat and check on the other kitten. But they were either too scared or too smart to attempt another breach.

The captured kitten slept a little bit but was otherwise a real chore to have around, as she wouldn't stop whining in a particularly grating, frog-like tone. At one point we thought she was calming down as she seemed to be purring. But then it was determined she was actually trembling. At some point Gladys came back and when she left we opened the window and the kitten went out with her. The kitten actually went back under the stoop, so we're hoping that space has not been tainted in her mind by us well-meaning humans. I later put a towel and some food in there. Nobody was there this morning but the food had been largely consumed (though there are any number of cats that could have eaten it).

So goes the life of the amateur cat rescuer. Talk about armchair quarterbacking, the cats are literally coming to us here! It's pretty cute that Gladys has been bringing us the kittens, but it's harder to convince the kittens it's a good idea. They still appear fairly young so there is hope they can be unferalized and turned into pet cats, but we'd have to get them socialized fairly soon. Otherwise, they'll be the next generation of garbage-eatin', baby-makin', dogfight-batin' alley cats.

Labels: Cats, Feral, kittens, Strays

As you know, there are several mother cats who come to us for food on a daily basis. They don't live in the house (although sometimes they do overstay their welcome) but know this is the food spot. We had been hoping that when their kittens are old enough, they would bring them over as well. But these cats live on the street side of the house, and their nests are across the street. So we didn't know if we'd ever see their offspring. Well last night they made the trek.

Gladys came over as usual and was eating when I noticed a little face in the window. There was a 10/11 week old kitten there, checking out the food bowl. Slowly, the kitten stuck its head in and started going to town on the cat food. I got the above photos at this point from across the room. The kitten eventually got spooked because I moved in too close. But it came back, and brought with it another kitten. Both were gray tabbies with white undercarriage, and both have the googly eyes like their mother.

They kept eating while Gladys stood around looking nervous. They hopped down to the floor briefly but when I looked over the couch to see them, they bolted out to the stoop. They came back and ate some more but eventually left. I thought that would be it for the evening, but then Gladys came back with yet another kitten!

This one was all white with orange spots and was the shyest of the 3. It would run if I just looked straight at it. Meanwhile, the first kitten was getting braver and actually came into the living room. It roamed around until it found a catnip mouse, which it started playing with. At this inopportune time, Jefe decided to notice the kittens and started going after it. As usual, I think he just wanted to play, but kittens rarely have the necessary insight to understand this. So I locked him in the bedroom for a while.

The kittens had their fill, but hung around the stoop. By the time I went to bed they were huddled in the steps leading down to the ground floor door, which kept them out of sight pretty well. Tonight I'm gonna make a more concerted effort to get them all inside. They're skittish but they're still so young I don't think they're all that afraid of me. My goal this time around will be to adopt them out, as well as their mother. Gladys is pretty darn cute in her own right:

Labels: Cats, kittens, Pets

Lucy started going into heat again this weekend. It was quite a sight. She rolled like a dog all the way across the kitchen floor, and she's suddenly very friendly to Jefe, has unlimited energy and has started singing around the house. It would be amusing if it wasn't so shockingly out of character. This is why she's at the regular vet and not at one of the cheaper alternatives; I just couldn't take it anymore!

So Lucy's there right now, she was spayed earlier today, I'm just waiting to hear if they'll let me take her home tonight. This is what I hate about vets. They say they have to keep her overnight to make sure her surgery holds together, that she remains healthy, etc. Of course I don't want to jeopardize her health but what this is really about is charging an enormous "hoteling" fee for keeping her in a cage all night.

Meanwhile, if I had been able to take her to the Mobile Spay Unit, or to Animal Care & Control (where 25 bucks gets you one fixed pet), I would have no choice but to take her home afterwards. They're using my assumed love of my pet as a means to soak me for more money. Of course, if I insist on taking her home and something bad happens, I'll feel incredibly guilty, but chances are I'd find SOMETHING to feel guilty about anyway ...

Lucy is being wooed by a stray Siamese cat who I would love to tame because I think he'd get adopted in a second. But he's very wary and I have not been within ten feet of him, even though I've been feeding him for a while. He might actually be a real feral cat, all the more impressive that he's such a fine specimen otherwise (the other truly feral cats around here are pretty scroungy). Maybe I'll build a nonlethal tiger pit out of a kiddie pool.

UPDATE: Lucy's home, safe and shaved and sound. I've got her sequestered in the bedroom fro the night. But Jefe keeps sticking his paws under the door, but at least he won't be able to pounce on her as has been his fashion of late. They really seem to have bonded over the past week, probably due to her being in heat. Let's hope they are able to be "just friends" now that her hormones will be in check from now on.

Labels: Cats, Pets

We met with the tax guy finally this weekend, he should be processing everything now. We have always done our taxes ourselves but we were too spooked by the variables involved with being a homeowner. Since we didn't move in until the end of October, though, it means we won't realize much benefit this time around. But at least we'll be better-prepared next time around.

Meanwhile, Lucy's been to the vet, now she's on antibiotic pills, which are proving to be a challenge to get her to consume. She's not falling for the hide-pill-in-cat-treat method anymore, and I haven't perfected the shove-pill-into-mouth-and-hold method. I tried that this morning and she tried to "drool" the pill out by slobbering it onto the floor. Lovely.

Labels: Cats, Pets, Photos, Taxes

In honor of Hubcap, I'd like to humiliate myself publicly by posting a song I wrote about him some 10 years ago. This is a song I 4-tracked, playing all the instruments. I barely knew how to use the equipment and had a lot of trouble hearing the playback while recording, especially while doing the drums, so the result is a song that only accidentally keeps the beat for any length of time. There's a section about 75% of the way through where the rhythm is supposed to change from 4/4 to 3/4 for several measures which totally does not work, and the recovery is just embarrassing. But I still like the song for its meticulous notation of Hubcap's habits at the time. Also of note is how much I feared he would die, with no fewer than 3 lines referring to my insecurity over his mortality. Here's the song (remember it's 10 years old, recorded on a 4track and copied onto cassettes, then copied to computer at some point), and the lyrics with full notation:

Hubcap

Who's walking on my head?
Who takes up half the bed?¹
Who's hanging on the screen?²
Who's looks like he's on ephedrine?³

Hubcap⁴

Eats from a can
You can scratch my hand
You can bite my knee
Just don't die on me⁵

Hubcap falls on the floor
Gets the boot and begs for more⁶
Slams into the front storm door⁷
Takes abuse but he never seems to get sore

Who always wants to get fed?⁸
Who's a quadruped?
Who at the door always stalls?⁹
Who fears all creatures both great and small?¹⁰

Hubcap

Asleep on his back¹¹
Dry heaves and hacks¹²
He's loyal true
Better friend than you¹³

Locked out of my house at night
Hubcap thinks that it's all right
Follows me to Diana's place
In Amy's bed he's sleeping on my face¹⁴

Hubcap can't say why
Hubcap I thought you'd die
Hubcap You death-defied¹⁵
Aw Hubcap

Hubcap falls onto the floor
Gets the boot and begs for more
Knocks his head on the front storm door
Takes abuse but he never seems to get sore

¹Hubcap enjoyed stepping on my face to wake me up; additionally he always found a way to situate himself in the bed so I had very little actual mattress to sleep on

²To let us know he wanted to come back inside, he would jump onto the screen door and hang there until somebody noticed him

³In his younger days he liked to run around in a panic, but to my knowledge he eschewed all drugs except catnip

⁴The name "Hubcap": I like hubcaps in general, I have a sort of hubcap collection, and Hubcap seemed like a good name for a cat: I found him on the street, after all

⁵The first death mention, I honestly can't remember why I was so paranoid about his health, he probably just had a cold or something and I freaked out; the occasion of the song seems to coincide with Hubcap's successful bout with illness

⁶"The Boot": Former housemate Al discovered that the young Hubcap enjoyed getting his belly rubbed with the sole of his heavy Timberland-style boot; Hubcap would walk into the kitchen, flop onto the floor, and Al would basically mop the floor with him

⁷In colder months, the screen door was replaced with a glass panel; Hubcap couldn't remember this and would jump at the door with nothing to hang onto

⁸Up until his death, the act of getting fed was a major preoccupation (even more so than actually eating, he'd often walk off without eating anything)

⁹Like many cats, he would beg to go outside but upon opening the door would just peer out into the yard indecisively

¹⁰He was deathly frightened of other animals, like chipmunks or birds, and would run and hide when he saw any; later in life, he tolerated their presence

¹¹In warm weather he could position himself with all four legs up in the air, and would stay that way for a long time

¹²Hairballs were a persistent recurring digestive issue

¹³Shades of my growing need to distance myself from humans and surround myself with animals that can't tell me how I've disappointed them

¹⁴One of my favorite Hubcap anecdotes: One night I came home very late and very drunk. I forgot my keys and my housemates were definitely asleep, the only way I could get in was to pound on the door to wake them up. I already felt like a doofus, and I had been feeling like the house loser at the time, so I couldn't bring myself to wake anybody up. Hubcap came up to me on the porch; he too was locked out. I figured my friend Diana would still be awake since I had just seen her at the bar, and her house was nearby. I started down the street. I made it a block or so when I realized that Hubcap was following me. I figured he'd be out of his element and stick close to home, but there he was, trailing me by a few yards. So I started beckoning to him, and he kept following me. Diana's house wasn't all that far, but it was a good hike, especially for a normally-territorial cat. But he kept following. I got to Diana's house, and indeed, she was still awake. Even better, her roommate Amy was out of town so she said I could sleep in her room. With a little cajoling, Hubcap also came inside and he went to bed with me. Hubcap slept on my head most of the night. In the morning we got up and went home together.

¹⁵Again, I don't recall the supposedly "death-defying" incident Hubcap survived, but he would manage to evade the Reaper for at least another decade after the composition of this song

Labels: Cats, Music, Nostalgia, Pets

My cat for the past 11 years, Hubcap, died last night at the Animal Clinic in Ridgewood. I don't know how old he was, but estimates put him around 15, so kidney failure is not perhaps that much of a surprise. I guess I'm glad I took him to the vet, but I wish that hadn't been his last stop.

I don't know what time he died exactly, but I woke up abruptly at 2:40 this morning to the sounds of plastic rustling: it was the sound of cat paws touching a bag of cat food. Every time I brought home a new bag, Hubcap would immediately start pawing at it, trying to get at what surely was superior food to what he already had in his bowl. He did it every time.

Of course, the sound was probably just one of the other cats rubbing up on the bag of Tidy Cat I left on the kitchen table (a souvenir from the kittens), but I like believing it was Hubcap, doing what he loved most: eating and annoying the hell out of me.

Maybe we'll be haunted by his ghost.

Labels: Bad Stuff, Cats, Ghosts, Pets

The kittens have decamped to their new homes (more last-day photos here). Their defenestration went fairly smoothly, both parties arriving at the same time so as to lessen the impact of their disappearance on Lucy. Lucy, predictably, did not seem interested in the slightest as she watched her progeny loaded into carriers and whisked out the door. She's since been wandering around, possibly looking for the kittens, but she doesn't seem upset about it. She's still beating up on Jefe, who is a total wuss the second anybody stands up to him, so things are getting back to normalcy. As much as that is possible.

It's sad to see them go, but we're pretty sure their new owners will do right by them. The ginger kittens already have permanent names, Sonny & Fredo (obvs, Big-Head is Sonny). The gray kitten doesn't have his name yet, but I'll post it when he has chosen one.

For the third time now, for a total of 5 4 cats, I must thank Abby for providing the conduit to handle the kittens I must unload every so often! We are very appreciative of her efforts to either take our kittens or spread the word to good people who will. Thanks Abby!

Hang loose, kittens!

Labels: Cats, kittens, Photos

'Twas an exhausting weekend, in which we, you know, actually did stuff instead of lying face-down in a pool of vomit, as on most weekends. No, this weekend we were downright productive! Saturday we dragged ourselves out to the Bushwick Walking Tour. We were a little late and had not committed the map to memory, so we couldn't find the tour for a while. So we conducted our own walking tour as we plodded around in the hot sun. After consulting Jeannie's sister over the phone, we backtracked until we found the group. Now I really wish I had made it to the South Bushwick tour from last month, I bet it had a lot of info that would have been useful to somebody who lives there (me). Saturday's tour was very informative, and really underlines just how different the two poles of the neighborhood are. I'm pretty jealous of some of the stuff up around Maria Hernandez Park, like the multiple produce markets and bakeries.

There was one weird moment when a young white woman crossed our path and seemed incredulous that people would want to tour Bushwick. She walked up to us and said something like, "What are you up to? I've never seen you around here before." I honestly thought she was a shill planted by the organizers to foment a conversation about the necessity of learning about one's environment, etc., but the longer she went on the more I believed her. She expressed disbelief that there was anything worth seeing around the area, then complained at the lack of amenities like coffee shops and the like (why is everybody so obsessed with coffee shops?) It was pointed out that she lived not three blocks from several cafes and restaurants and yes, a coffee shop; she was unaware of any of this. She also declared the M train was the worst train in the system, which I find at least slightly dubious.

If she was for real, I guess that's the type of newcomer that long-term residents find especially disconcerting; they come here for relatively cheap rent even though they're still probably paying lots more than their older neighbors, and they don't really have any conception of the neighborhood, nor see any need to. All that matters is how long it takes to get to Manhattan. Maybe I'm wrong about this woman, but it sure makes me understand the worry that longtime residents will be steamrolled in the mad rush to cater to people who can afford not to give a damn.

In other news, we have officially found adoptive humans for the rest of the kittens! Two couples will be relocating the boys to new digs next week. The ginger cats will remain together, moving up to East Williamsburg, while the Instigator will have the humans all to himself over in Prospect Heights. I think they'll all be happy with their new homes, and I'm really happy at least two of the cats get to grow up together. Most cats really are social animals, even if they don't want to admit it, and they like having other cats around. Of course, try explaining that to Decatur when Jefe is chasing her up and down the basement stairs.

Labels: Bushwick, Cats, Gentrification, kittens

Just some kitten video I shot this morning. They're doing stuff, but they're not nearly as active here as they are, say, when we're trying to go to sleep. That's when they are in full-scamper mode, when they attack your toes and find ways to crawl inside the lining under the armchair. In these videos, they just sort of scurry around the pile of boxes we have in the room.



Littleface took a spill over the weekend and strained his left foreleg. He was limping around at first, but he seems to have recovered quickly. Speaking of recovery, El Jefe the Amazing Ball-less Cat seems completely fine. I ended up taking the collar off Friday night, he was just so pathetic, bumping into everything and not being able to reach the food at the bottom of the bowl. I've been checking the incision site and it seems fine in any case. Now if we could only get him to stop stressing out Decatur, then we'd really have something.

Labels: Cats, kittens, Pets, Video

It's a curse of some cats, that they look sweet and happy even when they are clearly miserable. Jefe's a gelding now, and they talked me into the damn collar thing. I thought about skipping it, but he immediately started licking, um, the incision area when we got home.

Yes, that's right: we made it to the ASPCA Mobile Spay Unit! I got up extra early this morning, even though my name was supposedly on a waiting list. I got over to Saratoga Park just after 7AM. The spaymobile was nowhere in sight; nor were any people with pets (aside from dogwalkers). The site clearly states you should arrive before 7 to make sure everything goes smoothly, so I immediately thought it wasn't coming. I stood around like a doofus (and I'm even more out of place there than in my part of the neighborhood, if that's possible).

Finally at 7:30, the truck showed up and parked alongside the park. We then did a whole lot of waiting around, during which time a woman got angry because she had been on the list but didn't get a form to fill out, and a little girl's tooth was loose and was plucked out, causing her to scream like she herself was being spayed. Fun times!

At least the park is relatively nice, and the shade of the sycamores made the wait in the already-awful heat tolerable. At 9AM I got to take Jefe into the truck, where he was placed into a cage next to a darling little kitten whose cage was marked "FERAL," she was hissing at everything.

If you're not on assistance, they ask for a $25 donation, small change when you consider it can cost more than 10 times that if you pay 'retail' at some vets. Additionally they were offering free rabies vaccines, and vaccines for the main cat ailments. With the purchase of the e-collar, the grand total was $30! What a deal. Except for all the waiting around and such, but one could argue you'd have to do the same waiting at a regular vet.

I picked him up around 2:30, he was reportedly an angel for the duration (the doc had trouble listening for his heartbeat because he was purring too loudly). He's still woozy, but this really came out when I put the collar on. He's now under the coffee table trying to pull his own head off, lolling around like a drunk. I can't believe I'm supposed to keep the collar on for 7 to 10 days!

Also, there's all this stuff I'm supposed to do I don't remember doing for any other cats I've had fixed, like replacing cat litter with shredded paper. I understand it's to avoid infection, but I've got 4 litterboxes (and I plan on getting another tomorrow), there is no way I'm shredding that much paper! I do have some of that World's Best Cat Litter, which is mostly dust-free, I might try that on him.

Next up will be Lucy! I dunno when the spaymobile will be back in the neighborhood, but I'll probably just take her to the vet's. I'm not sure I'll be able to get away with being out of the office twice in one week just to get a cat snipped.

Labels: Bushwick, Cats, Pets, Strays

The kitten formerly know as Liza has moved uptown to an apartment just off the park. Not bad for the spawn of an alley from the southside of the Shwick! We hope she'll be very happy, she'll have another cat and a dog as siblings. Things may be tense at first, but she has become very friendly and adventurous, so she should be in a good position to meet new animals and people.

It was tough giving her away, but it always is I guess. She's in good hands though, we tried to stick a few more kittens into the outgoing cat carrier but were unsuccessful. Hopefully, we'll get a similar caliber of adopter for the fellas who remain.

I wish I knew the situation with the several other mama cats on the block. Marbles and Gladys have had their litters, but we've seen no sign of them (Gladys' should be big enough to eat solid food now). Bunny (or Mildred) is still very pregnant, but she doesn't seem to want to stay in the house. I'm not sure if we should try to force her to stay in to have her kittens or what. I'm sure I'd feel better about it, but raising kittens is pretty disruptive to the household, maybe it would work better if I had a cat nursery in the cellar. But right there I already feel creepy; what kind of guy builds a cat nursery in his basement?

Anyway, congrats to the new parents of Liza (or whatever she'll actually be called)!!! We expect regular updates, dammit!

Labels: Bushwick, Cats, Feral, kittens, Pets

I attempted to take Jefe the cat to the ASPCA mobile spay unit today, full of smug self-assurance that I would be one of the few decent citizens taking their cat in to get fixed. However, the opposite was true.

I went at 8 o'clock, even though the info suggested I arrive before 7. My logic was, who knows this is going on? Apparently there is some form of information dissemination that doesn't have to do with the Internet. Who knew? Well, there were already a bunch of people there, with nervous dogs and cats in tow. One of my neighbors was there, keeping her friend company while waiting to get her cat fixed. They told me that yes, all the 25 spots had already been filled for the day, but the spay unit would be back on Friday. This is pretty interesting to me, I guess there were enough people who got shut out here to justify an unscheduled return visit. So I got on the waiting list for that so I will be guranteed a slot.

Poor Jefe, he (and all the cats) were deprived of food since midnight the night before, and he didn't like the carrier one bit. I wonder what it's like to have one of those cats that love their cat carrier, and make not a peep while being transported therein. Jefe whined the whole time, competing with the whimpering pit bull tied up in a pickup truck bed who had a date with the knife.

I think my boss will let me stay home again Friday (I called in sick today; hey, I DID go to a doctor, of sorts). I'm pleased so many people showed up, it's a good reminder that we internet geeks are not in fact the be-all, end-all of communication in this world. It's a tendency we all get into, just look at Brownstoner. He created a flurry of annoying-comment activity on his site the other day because his neighbor had painted his brownstone's doorway white (apparently this violates any number of unenforceable aesthetic codes). People predictably went nuts in the comments section, variously shrieking about the affront or defending a man's right to paint his house whatever ugly color he damn well pleases.

The story was picked up by the local media (yes it's THAT important), who spoke with the owner who explained he was just having the portal REpainted, and that the white stuff was primer. Then the blog was hit with another load of Monday-morning quarterbacking. I was still shaking my head at the whole sorry affair as I ambled to the spay unit this morning, foolishly believing myself above that kind of internet-based solipcism. But hey, I got it wrong too!

So the lesson learned is: don't believe everything you read on the Internet. Or in my case, don't believe people don't know about something just because YOU don't.

And now, more kittens! They're really coming along well now, they're learning how to be a little more docile and deferent, and there has only been one litterbox accident since last week. And when I find the kitten who peed on my shoe ...

And now, the Lucy Litter:


Big Giant Head
This male ginger kitten is gonna be a big adult from the looks of him. His head is really big, and his eyes are set farther apart than usal (which makes him a little wall-eyed now). But from the size of his skull and his paws, I'd say he's setting the stage to be one big boy when he grows up. Despite his gargantuan size, he's a bit of a momma's boy but is as playful as the others.


Liza Minelli
The sole female of the litter, and the only Tortoiseshell. She is shaping up to be a very exotic looking cat, with the bizarre undercoat action alternating between ginger-tiger and black. Her energy level is second only to the Gray kitten, she loves to race around and play with her brothers or any loose fabric she can find. She's a little more cautious than the boys, but once she knows the coast is clear she'll be out and and about and all over your shoelaces!


Gray Instigator
Precocious from birth, this male gray and white kitten has always been a step ahead of the rest of the litter. He learned to walk first, eat solid food, play and generally behave like a real cat before any of the others. I'm pretty sure they learned how to do everything from watching him. He's very high energy now, but also will curl up and sleep next to any humans in the area. Definitely will be a cat that owns his human and not the other way around.


Littleface
More proportionate (for the time being) than his ginger brother Big Giant Head, this male kitten's facial features are conveniently located at the tip of his head, giving him the classic kitten details. Of all the kittens, he is the most people-oriented, he loves to play with humans. Of course, he roughouses with the kittens as well, but he always runs straight to us when we enter the room. First kitten to learn to use a litterbox, which is big points in my book!

I've compiled new photos into individual Flickr albums so you can get a clear picture of each one. Plus I've shot some more poorly-shot video of the kittens playing. This video showcases the female calico kitten at the beginning: tell me you don't want to take her home after her little hind-legs move:

Labels: Bushwick, Cats, Feral, kittens, Pets, Photos, Strays, Video

Oy vey, just once I'd like to come home from a hard day at the office and just be able to relax. Not so likely with a house full of cats, which I guess is at least partially my fault, so maybe I can't complain. But we're into the trying times of kitten rearing, they're all eating solid food and lots of it, and that means: kitten poop!

We just realized they've been pooping under our bed, so I've been relocating said poop to their litterbox in the hopes they'll make the connection. The ginger cat with the little face knows how to use it, and has been observed twice now properly disposing in the box. Meanwhile, the other kittens are pooping all over the place. I caught the other ginger cat trying to make under the bed, so I placed him in the box. But he didn't get it. So I'm cleaning up when the black kitten starts up under the night stand. Again, placing her in the box didn't seem to get the message through. I guess this is what happens, but it irks me, since one of the kittens knows where to go already. I'm sure they see him in there, where's that aha! moment?

Anyway, I still managed to get some new photos of the now 5.5 week old kittens in between these mildly disgusting episodes. These pix start here. They're getting big, I didn't even realize, they're twice the size they were just a couple of weeks back, and more or less acting like full-grown cats. I haven't seen them nurse for the past couple of days, I thought there would be a longer weaning period but I guess like all modern kids they're in a hurry to grow up. Next thing you know, they'll be wearing high-heels and smoking cigars.

Labels: Cats, kittens, Pets

I've been hobnobbing with the Jet Set in the penthouse suites of significant buildings downtown. Well, one suite in one hotel. I did a 2-day long training for my "career development." I don't know if it'll really help my job but it was a welcome respite from the stupid stuff I have to do every day in the office. However, missing Monday and Tuesday uptown means missing my favorite dishes at the Indian food cart. Have I ever told you guys about that?

Reluctant as I was to move to this uptown office, I must admit that lunch options for a vegetarian are pretty good. There's a middle eastern cart right outside my office that makes some of the best falafel I've ever had, and there's restaurants like Burritoville, which although wildly overpriced, at least set a precedent for vegan food in the area. There are also two Indian food carts. Yes, two. I don't know if they are related, but they set up on the same block right down from each other. I notice one gets much more business than the other, so I go to the one with no line.

Both usually offer the same menu (which makes me think they are related): some main dish and a side dish over rice with some salad and roti or chapati. The entrees are things like Chana Masala and Daal, with Aloo Saag as a side dish. And most of the time it kicks ass. They serve the same rotating menu every week and Monday and Tuesday have the best stuff (the aforementioned Masala and Daal). Anyway it's four bucks for this big platter.

Anyway, the training was fun, but now it's back to the grind. But even that's not so bad, provided people don't hassle me too much over the next couple of days. Meanwhile, the kittens continue to grow. All of them have been eating solid food for a while now, and are getting really big. This has also brought up the newest issue, getting them to use the damn litterbox.

I kept putting them into the litterbox but they just haven't been getting it. Lucy doesn't like the corncob litter I'm using (chosen because it's nontoxic and kittens tend to eat everything) so she's not exactly modeling the behavior. Then we noticed the kittens were pooping under the bed. Great. But at least this gave us some 'samples' to use as a guide. I put some in the box and lo and behold, just before we left for work this morning, one of the ginger cats was going to town in the litterbox! A couple of the other kittens witnessed the incident, so hopefully the gears are turning and they'll all get the message. The only problem now is that Lucy, while she won't use it herself, insists on scratching around in the litterbox, tossing litter across the room. This morning she flipped over the whole box. I'm gonna have to nail it to the floor.

Stay tuned for progress photos. One of the kittens is way huger than the others, it's weird!

Labels: Cats, Food, Job, kittens, Office

It's the end of another frustrating week! I guess it wasn't all bad, but I'm building a new web site for my job and I have to use the most irritating content management system software ever created. This CMS replaces the old one, which previously held that title. Before they rolled out the new system, they promised it would alleviate the issues of the old system and generally make life as effortless as sipping a mojito under a palm tree at dusk.

However, the opposite is true.

The system is incredibly convoluted and completely useless, except as a means to drive me insane. It could only have been designed by back-end programmers. No offense, but you how when new products come out, ie Apple Computers, they use words like "elegant," "intuitive," and "robust"? These are the three words that absolutely do NOT describe the system I am working with now. I can't even get into what's wrong with it here, because it would take so long to explain how Rube-Golbergesquely insanely overcomplicated it is. So let's talk about cats!

Three of the four kittens are eating solid food, and I think somebody used the litterbox (something's in it, I dunno what). Walking into the room now is akin to stepping into a racquetball court while somebody shoots ping pong balls at your ankles with a potato gun. Well, it's not that bad, but it probably will be.

Meanwhile, Marbles wasn't seen for a couple of days, then she showed up last night looking slimmer with decidedly mauled udders. We had hoped to get her to have her kittens inside the house, but I think she didn't dig all the other cats around. So her kittens are out there somewhere. After she loaded upon food, she dashed across the street. I followed her a bit to try to figure out where she nested. But instead of darting into the parking lot, she hopped up the stoop across the street, where a man sat smoking. He petted her, and Marbles looked completely at home. Jesus, does she live there? Has she been playing the homeless cat routine in an effort to get two feeding stations in the neighborhood? And is she doing this at more locations around the neighborhood?

Of course my main questions is, if somebody owns her, why the hell isn't she fixed? But I've learned this question falls on largely deaf ears in the neighborhood. I just hope plans are being made for the kittens, and they won't just end up rooting through the garbage in a couple of months. I'll be very interested to see how many people show up at the mobile spay unit on the 30th. Which reminds me, I should put up some flyers for it soon.

Which brings me to another pet-related irritant: pet stores that sell puppies and kittens. the pet store on Broadway off the Kosciusko stop on the J has some of each. They don't really have much space to move around in, and who knows if they ever get taken out of them before getting sold. Besides the less-than-great conditions they live in, the puppies may well be the products of disreputable breeders, aka 'puppy mills,' grinding out as many dogs as possible, health and safety sacrificed for profit (how much money do these places make anyway?)

The Prospect Heights Message Board has a huge thread on a new pet store on Flatbush that reportedly is selling such puppies. Although I feel they may have immediately jumped to worst conclusion (that the owner is trafficking in unhealthy puppy mill dogs, keeping them in unsafe conditions in the store, and indirectly adding to the crisis of the homeless pet population), but so far most of their suspicions seem to be true, although I have not been there myself and am admittedly getting all my info here from a message board. It's the Wikipedia Effect, I guess, but just because anybody can claim anything they want as fact ... doesn't necessarily mean it's NOT true, right? Isn't living in the modern age a blast?

In any case, it's a depressing situation to me even if the puppies are registered or whatever they do to prove a dog isn't the result of a mother and son dog gettin' it on. It just goes back to the irrefutable fact that there are so many animals in shelters, why in the hell would anybody buy a retail dog or cat? Frankly, I didn't need to see Best in Show to suspect that people who are into dog breeding are not operating on the same wavelength as most of us.

Anyway, I guess the simplest way to handle these pet stores is just not to shop there. That's easy enough for the one in Prospect Heights: I don't live anywhere near there, and if I did, I'd go to Acme Pet Supplies. In my neighborhood, there's Pets Ahoy, the aforementioned pet store, and the Pigeon store near my house, which may or may not have cat supplies (their hours seem to be something like 'Noon to Noon-thirty, weekdays'). Given the schedules that most New Yorkers maintain, how possible is it to avoid a pet store if it's convenient? For my part, I don't go by Pets Ahoy on a regular basis, I work near a Petland Discounts (they sell rodents and birds, the latter I'm beginning to think shouldn't be there either), its only real failure is that Science Diet cat food is $20 for an 8.5lb bag!

Labels: Bad Stuff, Cats, Feral, Job, kittens, Pets, Strays, The City

I forgot to take pictures of the kittens again, but I'll try to take some tonight. It's pretty fascinating to watch the progress. They are now a month old and are behaving more and more like cats and less like larvae.

Elsewhere in the cataverse, I thought another rundown of the main locals is in order. Many of the cats who hung around a while ago have not been seen in a while, while new cats have appeared to take their places.

Marbles. This is the cat that I thought was male at first, but she proved me wrong by getting pregnant. She hasn't given birth yet, we have tried to get her inside but she doesn't like to stay long after she eats. Then again, she will lie for hours next to our garbage cans, which apparently she prefers to our comfy chairs.

Gladys. This little female started showing up about the time we realized Marbles was pregnant, I had hoped to ensnare her and have her fixed. Then I realized she already gave birth and was currently nursing a litter. No telling how old they are or where they are being raised.

Jojo. This young male showed up the other day, barged into the house, flopped down on the floor and hasn't left. He will not take no for an answer and I'm a sucker for a gray tabby. Since we seem to have no choice in the matter it looks like we're keeping him. I wanna take him into the shop to make sure he's not harboring some horrible disease. He still spends nights outside until we can confirm his health and his ability to play nice with others.

Siamese Cat. This guy is a prizewinner. I don't think he's purebred because he's sort of muscular and stocky for a Siamese. But he's one good-lookin' cat. If anybody wants a Siamese, I'm working on taming him and will try to get him fixed. How does such a cat become a stray? Even if he's a mix, these cats don't usually come cheap. We came up with a host of theories, usually involving an elderly dowager who owned the cat, then died, leaving him homeless. That's probably not what happened, but at least it allows me to look at him and not necessarily think somebody tossed him on the street on purpose.

Chauncey. You may remember this guy, we haven't seen him for a long time. He was part of the whole crew of cats who used to come by and try to steal our cats' food. His sudden reappearance gives me hope that some of the other cats we haven't seen lately are still out there and okay. We're nearly positive he had an owner now, since he's been MIA for months and then shows up looking totally healthy. Unfortunately, the intervening months have shifted his personality from goofball older kitten to randy young adult. He got into the house and got into a fight with Lucy which I feel only happened because she's the only unaltered female around. It's too bad, he was a fun cat. This makes me want to take him in and have him fixed, even though he's not a stray. Imagine his owner's surprise when he comes home sans balls! Anyway it's an interesting ethical question.

And finally, the New Cat. Actually, there are at least two of them, as a pair showed up the other night. I think they're washing their paws in the water dish I leave out. They are enormous, by the way. What bizarre animals.


Also sighted lately include George, the tuxedo cat (newly-thin after giving birth, we assume), the flea collar cat, the second Russian Blue (who showed up the same day as Chauncey, they may both be owned by the same person).

Sadly, no one has seen Mugsy in a long time.

Previously:
In the diet of denial

Labels: Brooklyn, Bushwick, Cats, Feral, kittens, Pets, Strays, The Yard

Gothamist had another depressing post about the number of cats in the city. Damn there are a lot of cats here! And people do not seem to be getting any smarter. I commented that it seemed to me the best course of action for the city would be to offer free neutering to any pet owners. If people would only get their pets fixed, we wouldn't be up to our ears in the first place. Of course, there's already a huge number of wild cats out there too. But I don't think it's the feral cats who are dropping of boxes of kittens in front of every shelter in town.

Anyway, somebody responded to my comment with:

The ASPCA offers FREE and low-cost spay and neuter services six days a week for pet owners who are residents of New York City's five boroughs.

Low income pet owners in New York City's five boroughs with proof of public assistance such as Welfare, Medicaid, Medicare, SSI, Disability, Food Stamps, or Public Housing qualify. Unemployment does not qualify. If you do not have proof of public assistance, a $25 donation per animal is requested.

The ASPCA website has the schedule of spay/neuter clinic locations and more info on the "New York Services" page:

http://www.aspca.org

Or you can call for the schedule here:
(212) 876-7700 / Ext.4303

Hey! Somebody is offering free/low-cost neutering, AND coming to specific neighborhoods! Now my question is, are they telling anybody about this? If you check the calendar, you will see the mobile spay unit does get around. In fact, it's been to Bushwick recently. Funny, I didn't hear about it. Oh yeah that's right, NOBODY TOLD ANYBODY THEY WERE COMING.

Maybe I'm not going to the right parties or reading the right magazines, is the SPCA promoting this fact in any real sense? I don't know what I want from them exactly, but I've been trying to find resources for "cheap fixes" for some time and this is the first I've heard of it. So I'm trying to think of ways to spread the word, aside from the mighty power that is this blog.

I really can't figure out the mindset of people who own pets but don't get them fixed, especially cats. Unaltered cats, male and female, are full of drawbacks. The males caterwaul, fight, and spray everything in sight. Females go into heat and then have kittens all over the place. Would the owners of animals who do this have the wherewithal to note when the mobile unit would be in town and get their cats worked on? Seems unlikely to me.

Worse is the fact that the next time the mobile unit comes to my neighborhood, it'll be on a workday, so only the unemployed or those in a position to take time off from work can make it. I know this thing has to roll all over town, but this still sucks. I think I can take the day off from my job, but lots of people don't have that flexibility. Oh well, it's a start.

All this cat stuff is grating on me of late, as I've noticed even more pregnant cats in the street lately. Apparently this is prime kitten season, but there's a lot of summer left.

... Plus we kind of took in another cat the other day, but that's a story for another day. Spread the word about the mobile spay unit and get your damn cats fixed!

Labels: Brooklyn, Bushwick, Cats, Pets

The kittens are coming along nicely. At 3 weeks, they can all walk fairly competently, can play with each other, and wake us up in the middle of the night when they start whining because they're stepping on each others' heads.

By far this gray and white kitten has been paving the way for the others. even at 2 weeks old he was moving more and talking more than the others. He was the first to purposefully exit the closet and start exploring the room. He was also the first one to use his voice to communicate, much to our chagrin. He already has a large vocabulary of squeaks and groans and shrieks. He has never been shy about vocalizing. From what I've been reading about kitten development, until recently the kittens couldn't even hear particularly well, so I'm hoping he will quiet down now that he can hear how annoying he is.

He started engaging the other kittens in play fighting several days ago. He could barely walk a straight line but he still tried to bat the other kittens around. Soon they picked up on it, and now they're all smacking each other around, like tiny versions of the 3 Stooges.

Meanwhile, kitten mania in South Bushwick continues unabated. Marbles is largely pregnant, we're not sure what to do with her, since she won't come into the house for any length of time. We don't want to force her so I'm thinking of putting a box out on the stoop areaway so maybe she'll go in there.

On top of that, this OTHER young cat has been coming around lately. She could be from the same litter as Lucy, she's a calico too, but more rounded than Lucy. I was thinking of getting her in so I could have her fixed BEFORE she gets pregnant, only to realize yesterday that she's nursing a litter RIGHT NOW. Great. I don't know where these kittens are, or if we'll ever get to see them. But of course, if we do, you will certainly see photos of them here. Oh yes.

Labels: Bushwick, Cats, kittens, Pets

As promised, less kittens and more big fat white cats in the back yard! We hit up Home Depot yesterday for the first of what will probably be several trips there to populate the yard with plants. they had a surprisingly good selection, both for the garden and the window boxes I bought months ago but have yet to fill and mount. And yes, the window boxes are the lame plastic kind, but that's all they had at the XXtra discount store. In fact, HD was running low on decent planters too, I saw only one window box worth anything, and it was too small. To remedy this, we tried to get plants that would spill over the edge of the box to minimize our gauchity.

For the boxes we got annuals (including some 'double impatiens' which I just think are swell), but everything for the yard is perennial, so that we may enjoy the greenery for years to come. Or until we win the lottery. We're sort of reaching at straws, picking out stuff we like with little plan as to where stuff will get planted. But I guess it can go anywhere for now, it's not like we're gonna run out of room with the few plants we have so far.

At some point I'll have to remove most of the mint plants that sprouted up everywhere. I hate to tear up a perfectly serviceable plant that is doing a helluva job covering the side of the yard, but then, it's not like it won't just come right back.

I still want to get some big planters and plant some tall skinny trees so that I may move them around the patio at will, but HD had only superlame planters left. What's up with the state of outdoor furnishings? It's like people want their yards to look like the Enchanted Fairy Forest of Faux-Bronze Pots with Little Fleur-de-Lis all over the place. To the customers' credit, it seemed all the plainly designed planters and whatnot had all been sold, leaving the fugly stuff behind. But somebody must be buying this crap. I'll take my plastic boxes over the ostentatious stuff any day!

I've got the rest of the week off! If only I could enjoy it, but the specter of the workload when I return will ruin my ability to savor my freedom. Unless, perhaps, I get really drunk.

Labels: Brooklyn, Bushwick, Cats, Flowers, House, Plants, The Yard

I forgot to take progress photos of the kittens, all I got were a couple of quick shots I took on the way out of the house this morning. They have advanced quite a bit in just the past few days. All of them have their eyes open, and they're moving around a lot more. They're still not quite like cats yet, more like highly-educated guinea pigs.

One interesting thing that happened was the introduction of a new kitten. Jessie is fostering some orphaned kittens and has one who was refusing the bottle. It seemed that the bottle was just too foreign for the kitten and she really needed a real mom cat's equipment. The kitten is around 3 weeks old, so i should be able to eat solid food soon. But things had gotten so bad for her that she had to be tube fed the night before she came over. So Jessie brought this tiny kitten over and introduced her to Lucy.

Lucy didn't seem to notice at all that this wasn't one of her kittens. She may have been a little hesitant but she wasn't hostile at all. The kitten knew the deal immediately and sought out a nipple, and again Lucy didn't mind. She nursed on her a bit, then we put her in with the other kittens, who also didn't notice a stranger walked among them.

The kitten nursed some more, falling asleep while still attached. Jessie got her to take some kitten formula, so it seemed the experiment was a success. She was hoping the kitten would get 'jumpstarted' by Lucy's milk and would be more accepting of food, even bottle forumla. Here's hoping the little guy keeps it up; she's gonna make for a pretty cute kitten, she's totally cat-shaped now but she's smaller than our guinea-pig kittens.

If all goes well, I'll start discussing more about backyard landscaping soon. tonight we're hitting another nursery for more plants; I think it's gonna take a lot of vegetation to make our yard pleasant.

Labels: Cats, kittens, Pets

One more cat thing to round out the week: when I got home yesterday, the kittens had been moved again. They had already been moved from one closet to another a couple days ago, but now it appeared Lucy had taken them out of the bedroom completely. I searched likely spots throughout the house, finally coming down to the basement. I walked into the band room and found kittens all over the place!

The gray kitten and one of the ginger cats were crawling through the room, mewling and generally getting dangerously close to crates full of dusty cables. Lucy had set up shop behind my bass amp, NOT on the nice rug, NOT on the comfy blanket I put on the floor, but on the cold, paint-spattered cement floor. There was no way to corral the kittens, who were busy making themselves scarce under the reel-to-reel. The ginger cat somehow started climbing up the metal grill of my bass amp and got halfway up before I noticed. Even Lucy looked like she regretted her decision.

Mother cats move their litters for a variety of reasons. She may have felt the closet was too exposed to potential predators, she may have decided we were futzing with the kittens too much, she may have just been too hot in there and wanted to lie on the cold cement floor of the cellar. But most of all the experience reminded me that cats largely run on autopilot.

There really isn't any other place for these kittens to go except our bedroom or the room directly adjacent to it. So two by two I brought the kittens back upstairs. Lucy followed and I tried to somehow prove it was a safe place. But she stuck her head into the closet and plucked out the calico kitten in her jaws. She walked towards the door, which was now closed. Along the way she passed her food dish. Suddenly, she put the kitten on the floor and just started eating. After a minute, she got back on track and picked up the kitten again. She walked to the door, and finding it closed, dropped the kitten and went back to the food bowl. The kitten sat there, looking around patiently. Then Lucy just strode over to the closet, went inside, laid down and started nursing the other 3 kittens. The calico was still sitting halfway across the room.

So thus, I realized that cats are largely a bundle of instinctive behaviors and not necessarily the caring and thoughtful mothers we want to believe they are. As of 8AM they were still in the closet but who knows where they'll be when I get home. I am hoping they can be relocated to the room next to our bedroom, it's the room we use the least, except as pass-through to the other rooms, we just have to put some barriers up so the kittens don't spill out.

Labels: Cats, kittens, Pets

Kittens achieve zen much more easily than humans.

Labels: Cats, kittens, Pets

More kitten developmental milestones: Two of the kittens have their eyes sorta open. The gray kitten is furthest along in that regard, and seems to be the best walker of the group so far. But these skills come at a terrible price: he's really annoying.

He whines more often and louder than any of the others. He doesn't seem to be in distress, he just seems impatient with this phase of kittenhood. He cries when he's hungry and can't immediately start nursing, he cries when the other kittens step on his head (but not when he steps on them!), he cries when he crawls away from Lucy, he cries when he's nursing, which is quite a feat. The other kittens are pretty quiet, although this morning they were literally swarming all over Lucy, squealing the whole time. Here's some video of Lucy's daily routine, feeding the kittens and try to groom them while they run roughshod all over her. UPDATE: I have uploaded a lighter version to better reveal the antics of the black kitten.



The calico cat also has her eyes open, but she's relatively silent. She's really cute but all the photos I've taken of her come out looking like the crate monster from Creepshow. Perhaps she's photograph better in another week or so.

The ginger cats haven't opened their eyes yet, but it looks like the corners are giving way, so they should be open soon. They're significantly larger than the non-ginger kittens, I'm not sure why that is. They're all getting enough to eat, although they still haven't learned how to share nipples yet. Luckily, the first-served will drift off to sleep after a while, allowing the next team to move in.

Here's another video in which one of the ginger cats leaves the safety of the box to seek his fortune on the outside. I kept waiting for him to turn around and go back in the box, but instead he chose to just to spin in circles ad nauseum. Meanwhile, Lucy, who normally would come out and pick him up, was dealing with all the other kittens, so I had to put him back in, where he promptly burrowed under his mom.

Labels: Cats, kittens, Pets

The kittens seem to be doing well, from preliminary examination I believe we have 3 boys and one girl (the black-orange one). I could be wrong of course, I don't like holding them for very long cuz they keep wriggling so much I fear I will drop them on their exceedingly large heads. They are getting bigger, but still haven't opened their eyes or learned to walk properly. They get around mostly by slinking around and rolling on top of one another.

It's way too early probably, but some personality seems to be coming to the fore; one of the beige kittens seems to be pretty mouthy, and the black-orange one seems more independent. This is probably all projection, it will literally be weeks before they are ambulatory enough to display actual personality. What I keep wondering now is, who's your daddy?

The beige cats resemble Mugsy, who although not exactly the George Clooney of the feline set has a decided drive to procreate. There's also a beige cat who lives down the street, not a homeless cat for once, but who has free reign over Eldert Street. But what of the gray kitten? This guy has nothing in common with his mom besides the white undercarriage. Apparently, it is possible for a female cat to have a single litter by more than one father, due to the timing of egg release or something. And given the randy nature of the cats around here, I wouldn't be surprised if this rare feat was achieved here.

It's maddening to think that not only can a cat get pregnant when her last litter is barely out the door (as Stumpy may be!), but after she successfully mates with one male, she could theoretically mate with another dude and still get pregnant! Sheesh.

I'll put up more pictures when the kittens start doing something more interesting.

Labels: Cats, kittens, Pets

I don't actually have any update, just wanted an excuse to post another photo. I'm trying to shovel as much food into Lucy as possible, it just doesn't seem like she could produce enough milk for all these kittens, but they seem to be doing fine so far. I guess they don't become really interesting for a couple of weeks, when they can move around and actually exhibit some kind of personality.

I swear I'm trying to think of something non cat-related to post; old habits die hard!

Labels: Cats, kittens, Pets

Ironically, the same weekend that Jen succeeded in getting most of her kittens adopted out, Lucy dropped a litter of her own in the closet. I suspected something was up when she was sitting next to me on the couch, acting a little weird. Then I noticed something spilled on the cushion; I assumed I spilled coffee (I pathologically spill coffee all the time). But in retrospect I'm pretty sure her water broke. Cuz right after this, she started staking out a birthing spot. I had set up a box with a towel in the living room, and she did try to go inside it. Sadly, Hubcap was already in it and he didn't want to leave. So she went into our bedroom, which features 4 closet doors to hide behind. She managed to wedge herself behind a box in the far left closet, giving her a space the size of a shoebox to give birth.

By this time I was already in Manhattan, spending the day with my parents, in town for work. We went to the Met, and while we were resting at the museum cafeteria, Jeannie called me up to inform me of kitten birth. She end up having to remove the box just to give Lucy enough room as the kittens kept coming. She eventually replaced it with a smaller box (after ejecting Hubcap from it) which Lucy readily accepted.

So I didn't get to witness this beautiful and gross miracle of life, but from the sound of it, I can't say I mind too terribly. She had 3 kittens in rapid succession, and then after a delay of several hours, had one more. I still can't believe all those cats were inside her! I thought she had another week or two from the look of her, but apparently she had other plans.

So did you know that there's a placenta for each kitten? It's kind of disgusting! Luckily the Moms cut the cords and disposed of everything that wasn't cute and fuzzy. None of the kittens look like her, there are orange tabbies, a gray and white tabby, and a black-orange mottled kitten. It seems odd that none came out in that standard calico-on-white pattern. We were hoping we would be able to tell who the father was by the kittens' markings, but they came out looking like several of the local Casanovas. I did read that it is possible for a female cat to get pregnant by more than one father at a time, but that's pretty rare. I'll have to research more about calico cats; I know about how there are almost no male calicos, but is it a recessive gene or something?

Anyway, now that the furor over Jen's cats is beginning to die down, we can begin taking orders for this batch. So who wants kittens? We're pretty sure that by the time they're ready to ship they will be very social and will be able to do tricks and say 'I love you' in several languages. Be the first kid on your block to own one (or more) of these amazing creatures.

Labels: Bushwick, Cats, kittens, Pets

Things seem to be going along okay with Lucy the Pregnant cat so far. I can't tell how far along she is but you can feel the kittens moving around inside, so maybe they're getting antsy to get out?


We're trying to decide how involved we want to get with the local cat population, but we found out that there is a mobile spay unit that will actually come out and fix a population of neighborhood cats (provided you have at least 10), which would nicely curtail feline reproduction on our block. But to get to this point we'd have to get the cats to warm up to us more to have a chance of getting them into the Spay-O-Matic. But of course, doing this means feeding all of these cats (instead of just some of them), pretty much for the rest of their lives unless they can be adopted out (which in the case of cats like Mugsy, is pretty unlikely). But maybe it's not that big a deal; indeed, some might argue I've been heading towards this kind of thing for years, why fight it?

All of this stuff is certainly easier to deal with now that it's summer. Winter is the real test, so at least I have some time to decide. Though I sure would like to get these animals fixed ASAP, to avoid the bittersweet heartbreak of More Kittens. Which reminds me, if anybody wants a kitten, head over to north Bushwick and check out Jen's brood. She's got a couple of gray tabbies left to dole out. If however you prefer a calico, just give us a couple weeks and Lucy will produce something to your specifications. If you can't use any new cats, please spread the word to your less web-savvy pals!

Oh, and last night a raccoon showed up in the yard. Think we should adopt it too? And for the record, Mr Bones was suddenly not so tough when this bad boy strolled by.

Labels: Bushwick, Cats, The Yard

The back yard has been cleared of offending trees and related debris, but is now lying fallow as I waffle over what I should be planting. My parents suggested I grow "potato vine" over all the chain link fencing, it's what they use in northern California and it seems to grow quickly and cover stuff well. But first of all, I am not at all sure if it's commonly known as 'potato vine' or if that's their cutesy colloquialism for it. I looked it up but there seem to be several plants that sort of sound like it. And secondly, I have no idea if something that grows well in California would stand a chance in the schizophrenic weather patterns of New York. Also I hear they are poisonous, a detriment in a household with cats that chew on stuff they find out back.

I' m also planning window boxes for the front parlor floor, but again I'm at a loss as to what flowers to plant. I'd like to do something more impressive than impatiens this time around, but the more I look into things, the more I understand why I always just used them in the past. They require almost no thought, they continually flower all summer long, and they're not half-bad looking. Maybe that's all I want out of a flowering annual. Anyway, I'll be hitting up all the local nurseries to get some m ore ideas, but if anyone knows of a vine that will cover a fence-type thing in no time, lemme know.

Also in back yard news, the cat parade has more or less stabilized to a set of players that I am attempting to document. So far I count some 8 cats who have been patronizing our home of late, and this isn't even counting Lucy the Pregnant Kitten. I will eventually have photos of all of them, plus short psychological work-ups:


Russian Blue: This is the good-lookin' feller who comes by every so often to strut his stuff. He never wants food, and is apparently not interested in any of our female cats. He is, however, smitten with Hubcap, which is just plain weird.


Mugsy: The scroungy orange tiger who likes to sleep on the ratty blanket in the church yard. He may not win any beauty contests but he seems to have a sweet disposition. Also known as "Fugsly."


Marbles: This is the cat I called Decatur's Boyfriend previously, but she too has turned out to be female. She hasn't been in the back yard but she has been hanging outside the front window. She doesn't appear to be pregnant ... yet.


Russian Blue II: Mysterious cat only seen once in the past week, it may not be a blue, further reports pending. UPDATE: He came back last night and was singing for a while.

Georges: A longhair gray with some white accents (he may be a Nebelung, but he might also just be a longhaired gray cat), he likes to caterwaul to the ladies in the middle of the night. He also approached Mr Bones the other day, singing his heart out, so there may be a problem with his eyesight. You can kind of see him in the below photo.


Tuxedo: Newly noted, this black and white cat was assumed to be male (since most of the others are), but we just realized it's a girl, which partially explains her timidity. Note Georges sitting on the fence behind her.

Flea-Collar Tiger I: The first one we spotted is male and pretty assertive. He looks like a cross between Hubcap and Decatur and made for many frustrating moments when Decatur was lost.


Flea-Collar Tiger II: This one may be female and has more of a leopard-spot coat. I don't know who is putting these flea collars on the neighborhood's street cats but I think it makes people think they are being cared for, which is only true in the sense that there are many garbage bags for them to root through.

And of course, the kitten who we've been calling "Lucy," (pictured at left) she's coming along well, but she just cannot grasp the concept of a litterbox, insisting on going back to the vacant lot at night. Maybe I should fill a litterbox with dirt, gravel and discarded tires. We're not sure how old she is but she must still be pretty young, she doesn't look full-grown yet. Who wants a slightly used kitten?? She will be delivered somewhat thinner than she appears here.



UPDATE: Here's a shot of the back yard yesterday, where at least seven (7) cats are in evidence.


You can't really see Georges or the Russian Blue cat (who is actually outside the fence), but I assure you, they (and possibly others) are indeed out there.

Labels: Cats, Flowers, Pets, Plants, The Yard

Ugh, the last few days have been miserable, and not just because of the rain. Sometime on Friday night, Decatur slipped out an open front window. We didn't realize it until the next afternoon. We started searching around the area, trying to apply some form of feline logic to the situation. It seemed to me she would have dashed across the street into the vacant lot/parking lot as it is easy to get into and hide. But the more we looked around, the more we realized how many places there are for a small animal to hide. Not the least of these is the church yard behind our house.

At this point we didn't know what window she went through, so we looked out in the back as well. The church has been out of commission for years and the lot (which contains both church, rectory house and driveway) is totally grown over and full of trash. So it's basically a stray cat's amusement park. I searched through it several times, rousting many other cats, but not the one I was looking for.

The circumstances surrounding Decatur's disappearance may shed some light on all this: see, on Friday night we let some cats into the house. One was that Russian Blue cat I spoke of earlier, the other was the Kool-Aid Kitten, who has an even better 'in' to our home: she's pregnant.

Last time Decatur was around a cat with kittens, she bolted and I didn't see much of her for over a month. I didn't know if this was the same situation or if she was really lost; she had never been out front before, and this weekend had been fraught with stuff to scare both cats and humans. Friday night there was some huge to-do down at the far end of the block; we heard what may have been shotgun blasts and soon the street was full of people, cops, ambulance, fire trucks. Not sure what the story was there but it was a bit unsettling. Saturday night as we were entertaining friends with discussions of how Bushwick is really much nicer than its reputation suggests, some dipshit started shooting a gun right outside our house. I'm still not sure what that one was about, I checked outside afterwards but saw no one in evidence, shooter or shootee (the next day the cops came and placed tiny orange cones next to each bullet casing; the bullets had shot out the rear window of an SUV).

So I thought Decatur might have been so spooked by the commotion that she had gotten herself really lost. Anyway, we kept up the searching and the fretting, I made flyers and posted to lost-pet web sites. But things wrapped up pretty much 20 minutes after I put up the flyers.

I noticed the parking lot gate was open, a guy from Luis Refrigeration was changing the tire of his company van, so I went in and asked if it would be okay to look around for the cat. I went to the back of the lot, which was covered with that bamboo-like stuff I so detested from my old back yard, shook a jar of cat treats and called her name. Like it was nothing, Decatur emerged from the underbrush. Just like that.

She was no worse for the wear, despite having been outdoors for all the huge storms of late. the tire-changing guy said that he had seen her sleeping in the cab of one of the trucks that park there. I brought her back inside and she seemed nonplussed to be home. In short, my sympathy levels dropped at light speed. Damn these cats!

Anyway, she's back home and she's being sweet again, so all is well. We have the house on lockdown so nobody's coming in or out for once. We're not sure what to do about the pregnant cat, I'm hoping to relocate her to the backyard, but she seems to be fine with living in the lot across the street. That may be the most ironic aspect of Decatur's sojourn: if she left because she didn't want to share space with the pregnant cat, why then did she move herself to that lot, where the very same cat spends most of her time? This is the logic you get from an animal with a brain the size of a walnut.

I'll have more stuff on the stray population, we have some real characters around here!

Labels: Bad Stuff, Brooklyn, Bushwick, Cats, Good Stuff, Pets, The Yard

Freddy the Formerly Stray Cat scared us the other night when she climbed over the back fence and into the church yard behind it. She wouldn't come back, bedding down in an old milk crate and staring at me critically when I tried to convince her to come back inside. I feared we'd have to start all over with her, slowly luring her back to the house, but the next day she ran into the kitchen like nothing had changed. But it had ...

On a previous night, she got into a growling match with a big male cat that had traipsed into the yard. Now it seems she and this cat were pals; they slept next to each other in the church yard and hung out together on the patio. Not only that, but her ambassadorship seems to be attracting others. The other night we were sitting in the living room when I noticed a cat sitting on the kitchen counter. This is not unusual, but it wasn't one of our cats. It was a Russian Blue, looking pretty much show-quality, if a little on the thin side. He had come through the open window that sits above the counter. And Freddy's original friend kept lookout on the window sill. It then occurred to me that I had left that window open the night before in case Freddy decided to return, so they'd probably already done a dry run for this infiltration.

I don't know if these cats are strays (gently used) or feral (Born Free), but they bolted when we inched over towards them. The Blue cat really was a lot better-looking than pretty much any of our cats, it makes me wonder if I can trade some of them in. But we haven't seen it since. Meanwhile, the parade of neighborhood cats continues unabated.

Out on the street there are tons of street cats that appear to go from stoop to stoop looking for handouts. We keep getting visited by a calico kitten who momentarily garnered my sympathies because I thought she was covered in her own blood. I carried her out to the back yard and stuffed her full of cat food. Then I noticed the 'blood' splashed on her side much more closely resembled Kool-aid. I guess that's 'street smarts.'

Labels: Brooklyn, Bushwick, Cats, Funny to Me, Pets, The Yard

Ever-attuned to all things related to soundproofing, I read with interest the NYTimes article about people dealing with noise issues in their homes. I'm mostly glad they actually devoted a (small) section of the article to the DIYer, though the brunt of the article was clearly aimed at people who will pay through the nose for quiet. It still astounds me not only that people are willing to pay so much ($3-4K PER ROOM!) for stuff like this, but that plenty of folks in this town are willing to do this for property they don't even own.

Like that episode of Seinfeld when Jerry has Conrad/Con/Conny redo his kitchen cabinets, it always sticks in my craw that he was just renting. But apparently it's not the unheard-of for renters to upgrade their apartments. I guess they assume they'll be there long enough to make the lost expense when they move worth their while. Maybe I'm more old-fashioned that I thought (don't worry kids, I'm still wicked cool), less existential than I thought I was (don't worry kids, I'm still wicked goth). Maybe it doesn't matter in the long run if you own something, as long as you have landlords who will let you install $10,000 soundproof windows and $250 per panel Quietrock drywall.

Meanwhile, the cops have been outfitted with Segways. If there is a god in heaven, please let them start patrolling my neighborhood. Oh sweet jesus I would love to see what the neighborhood would have to say about that. I hope they're teaching the cops to juggle spaldeens as well. That's money well spent!

And congratulations to Jenblossom, whose stray cat just moved a little of kittens into her yard. Ah, what fun awaits them! At least those kittens look a little better than the ones I got (pictured). But they're hanging in there, as is their mom.

Labels: Bushwick, Cats, Friends, Renting, Soundproofing, The City

One thing Bushwick has lots of is cats. I have seen actual packs of cats roaming the streets en masse, cats caterwauling on our stoop, cats sleeping inside our gate door. My neighbor complained of cat odor recently and had the chutzpah to suggest it was the fault of my own personal cats. There are literally hundreds of cats out on the streets marking territory or otherwise making their presence known, and MY (currently indoor) cats are stinking up the neighborhood?? See if I invite you to my backyard BBQ now!

We'll see if this little fella amongst the trashcans returns to woo Decatur. This guy, like many of the local felines, seems pretty tame. I wonder if it would do any good to get them into a trap-neuter-release program. If nothing else, I bet it would be a good way to get them to avoid hanging out near my house.

Labels: Brooklyn, Bushwick, Cats, Pets