First of all, I'm happy we voted that Obama guy into the Presidency. I hope it's a real omen of good things to come. I think the first thing he should do in office is replace all these 'panicky investors' with some guys of stronger constitution. I mean, every day I read in the paper that the Dow has just dropped another 600 points because "nervous investors worried about a bleak economic forecast" or whatever. Who are these losers? Find some folks with some serious brass balls and get rid of these wimps! Problem solved.

Meanwhile, my own efforts to lighten the public's burden, trapping feral cats and getting them fixed, has resumed. We picked up a few in Bed Stuy last week, not a great haul but a few are better than none. We'll have to go back, as there are a ton of cats in this neighborhood. We really only caught a bunch of rather tame street cats, not much of a challenge really. But we didn't have a great trapping spot, so we had to try to do it literally on the street corner. In retrospect I guess we did better than one might expect, considering.

This weekend I'll be trapping in Ft Greene behind a library, which should be more fruitful as long as the weather isn't too horrible. We'll be able to leave the traps alone for several hours, which should produce better results. After the get fixed and vaccinated, we let them recover for a few days before returning them. Then ideally, they go back to their lives as before; they just don't make any more cats.

Which brings me to my other hobby: building cat shelters. Does anybody live near a fish market? On trash days, walk by and see if they're tossing out any of those long Styrofoam packing boxes, these make good cat shelters. There's a fish market near me but they don't seem to be going through these as fast as I'd like, so I only have one so far. But you basically cut a hole in it and stuff it with straw and voila. It's not the best cat house, but it'll do!

Labels: Cat Fixin', Feral

Today is apparently National Feral Cat Day. I haven't kept up the advocacy end of this cat business, so I was unaware that it was today or, indeed, that it existed at all. I guess I don't know if I'd done anything anyway, I'm always busy at work and busy with cats once I get home. I am finishing a couple of new winter shelters for the outdoor crew, I found one of those huge Rubbermaid bins in the neighbor's trash which I am converting into a cat condo, it's pretty common elsewhere, but normally I am limited to the bins half the size, since anything bigger is too hard to carry home (see photo by Lisacat of ECC's PJ with a similar shelter).

I went to Home Depot for supplies and miraculously they had mini bales of hay for $7 apiece. I got 3 of them, which left straw all over the store. I also got some Styrofoam insulation and, of course, more Great Stuff expanding foam. I love that stuff. Of course, our ferals seem to prefer the abandoned house down the street to the storage tub shelters, but perhaps laziness will win out and they'll stay with us, if only so they don't have to walk more than 20 feet for food.

It sounds like a friend will help put together the materials to turn the Empty Cages Collective into a true non-profit group! I have been hoping for this for a long time, as it helps legitimize their activities, plus will save them some dough on taxes. I don't know what sort of grants are out there for cat groups, but they will be able to apply for them. Plus people who donate money can deduct it from their taxes. All this time they've been basically scraping by on their own money and the favors of kindred spirits. Now, how do you explain tax-exempt status to a livery cab driver?

Labels: Feral

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

We're full up with cats, even some kittens again. But sadly, these kittens were only recently revealed to us, so by the time we captured them they were super feral and showing no signs of wanting to be tamed. We got them fixed and eartipped (though they did an especially good job this time of making the eartips barely noticeable). We were prepared to release them, since time is short to socialize them and again, we already have way too many cats. What we didn't count on is the kittens not wanting to leave.

After recovering from their surgery for several days, the kittens seemed back to normal and ready to reintroduce to the back yard. I figured if we opened the door to their room and opened the back door they'd just scamper out and, I dunno, frolic in the ivy, or something. Instead one ran under our bed and the other went outside. But then she came back inside. The female (Black Betty) is brave and curious, she explores the house and occasionally looks out the window. The male kitten (no name yet, we keep calling him Small Fry) is far less trusting and keeps out of sight until the fall of night, when he comes out to knock things off of other things. Neither is showing any interest in going outside.

This is not to imply that they love us and want to spent time gentling cuddling in our arms; they get wide-eyed and bolt when we hove into sight. Thus the issue: they're too feral to adopt but they don't wanna move out. I guess we'll have to give them the boot, but I wonder if they won't just dash back in the house. They might be thinking, with so many cats around who'd notice a couple more? And they'd probably be right. But I'm not telling them.

Labels: Cat Fixin', Feral, kittens

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Last week was rough. We were both sick to varying degrees, and the addition of the new kittens was really weighing heavily. At first we were afraid to let the kittens into the cellar so we closed the door and brought the litter boxes upstairs. This had one major positive effect: after months of sleeping in the basement, Decatur was forced to come up to our bedroom (though she slept in the closet most of the time). But most of the kittens had diarrhea, the litter boxes were beyond gross, and we started thinking that even crazy cat ladies are better prepared than us.

But we got things under control eventually. A pal of mine works for a rescue group and was kind enough to give us some dewormer for the kittens. A better brand of cat litter helped control things in between cleanings (which I now do twice a day, with patrols throughout the day). The kittens have settled in and are all quite happy to be here. Well, all except Monkey.

Monkey, the lone female in a sea of boy kittens, she's still pretty skeptical of her human hosts. She's getting better though and spent a good deal of last evening playing with the other kittens.


Rusty, the orange kitten, has almost totally been tamed. The only thing he doesn't like is being picked up. But hey, a lotta cats don't like being picked up. His two brothers (Baby Bones and Ira) remain standoffish, which bugs me since they're getting really big and I am dubious of the market for full-grown cats who don't like people.


Chester, the Russian Blue kitten, is also super tame. He is darned cute and will be difficult to part with. I wish his sister (Monkey) would come around, as they really should be adopted out together.


Shoehorn, the gray tabby kitten, is also doing very well. He's a bit skittish, but will accept petting and has been sleeping on the couch next to us.


Ira, the darker of the gray tabby brothers, soooo wants to be a housecat. I can see it in his eyes when we're playing with the other kittens. But alas, he has a psychological block he has been unable to overcome that prevents him from allowing us to touch him. Still, he has been pouncing on our toes while we're in bed, so I think his defection is imminent.


Baby Bones, named for his resemblance to Mr Bones, has been the slowest to progress. This is odd since he was the first of Gladys' kitten to come into the house over a month ago. Perhaps he's too self-sufficient, or maybe he's just too smart for us. He knows that eventually I'll put out food for him, and he gets a lot of attention from the other cats. So maybe he thinks there's no reason to make nice with the humans. I'll think of something!

Labels: Cars, 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

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

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

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