In the fall of 2017, I noticed a black and white cat with three kittens sitting under the big fir tree in the corner of our yard. Sometime in 2016 I had chased that black and white cat out of the backyard cause she was eyeing some of the birds at the feeder. This time though, she sat there, looking at me, almost willing me to become interested in their life. The next time I was grocery shopping, I picked up some cat food, wet cat food. Buddy only ate dry and it was a prescription food for her finicky digestive system. I took some bowls of food up to the gravel road and while they stared at me, I was assuring them that it was good food and oh, I brought some water as well cause, tuna can make one thirsty. Our fall that year was a tad coolish and not being able to find the materials needed to build a temporary feral cat house, I went to Walmart and bought a children's tent. I set it up under the fir tree and put towels and blankets, lined it with pool noodles and cardboard. After just a little bit of time, the four of them trusted me enough to eat in our backyard and on the deck. Thus, I moved the tent down to the deck, put out some inexpensive throws so that their little paws would be a tad warmer as they ate. I started calling the big black and white cat, Mama Cat and her kiddos, Cali, Camo and MJ. Over the months, I kept watch during the snow and wet for those kitties. Our neighbors hadn't moved in yet above us, so the Feral Fam retreated up to the house and barn area there to keep warm, but they'd return for meals or to relax from the stress and threats of feral cat life here. Once, I almost coaxed Cali into the house, but she hesitated. Once MJ showed interest but Mama Cat was right behind him and just by her mama growl, he knew not to enter in. Camo never ever had one bit of interest in me. She was there for the food and as soon as she could, she left to live closer to our neighbor Mary Joyce. Camo had her first litter and I briefly saw her one time with them. I don't know what happened to them, but I never saw them again. Then she had Punky, Strawyer and a three legged kitten that our neighbor rescued and his name is Eric. Her only other kitten I ever saw was Charlie and she brought him over and left him, just like she had done with Strawyer and Punky. MJ, was killed by the dogs next door and Cali, well Cali was found on the side of the road, the day before Thanksgiving in 2018. She is buried underneath the big fir tree near the gravel road. Mama Cat has been a constant, though. Our relationship was a love/hate one. I loved her even though she hissed at me constantly, even when serving her food dish to her. Once she had a huge litter of seven kittens and during that time of raising them in the backyard, we kind of had a truce. She stopped hissing but probably because she was beyond exhausted. Once she had done her job with that large litter, she began hissing at me again. Fido and Spot are the last of her kittens she brought down to the backyard and garage. Mama Cat was always a huge cat, always pregnant or so it seemed. She had adjusted her life to the gravel road and only coming for supper and sometimes breakfast.
These past few months I asked Roy if he had seen her. Feel like I should start singing, "have you seen her? Tell me have you seen her?" He said no, but other than Spot and Fido he has a hard time distinguishing the others. Last night after planting a few things in the front yard, and coming into the back, there she was. She was sleeping by the steps only at first I thought it was Cutie. Mama Cat lifted her head, I saw her face and knew it was her but she was emaciated. Her fur not groomed, every movement a struggle for her. I brought her some soft food, she wanted to eat it, but didn't. Brought her some milk, approached but didn't touch it. She let me come close to her, closer than ever, but her actions told me I was allowed in, but not to touch or pet her. Mama Cat was content to let me sit by her. She looked at me several times, and actually closed her eyes halfway. The sign of safeness and love from a cat. I cannot ever remember her expressing anything than a stone cold stare at me. I had to go into the garage and get the platter out for the kitten's supper and she had moved over to the pallet that the cat houses sit on. She ruled and reigned for years on that pallet. I gave the kittens supper, watched them a bit and kept her in the corner of my eye. Roy was in the front yard and I called to him to come to the back. By this time Mama Cat was on the top step to the porch door, just like always. She looked at me and even though I knew she wasn't long for this world, the way she looked at me I knew she had come at the expense of great energy to tell me goodbye. Big Daddy did that last year. Hadn't seen him for years but in feral cat years he was very old. He came, sat nearby and gave me that expression that I was seeing from Mama Cat. I sat there for a bit and when she saw easy passage because the gate was open, she slowly left the yard, but as she did, she stopped at the gate. She turned and gave me one last long look. I thanked her for letting me love all these kiddos of hers all these years. That they had gotten me through some lonely times, through the pandemic. She had given me Hector Protector, HP, and a few times she knocked the snot out of King Herod...whom I do not shed any tears for but the last time he was around was in February. He looked ill and ungroomed.
I halfway expected to find her this morning somewhere in the side yard but she wasn't there. I think she has gone over the rainbow bridge but probably across the way, closer to Camo. We still see Camo girl every once in awhile. Mama Cat must have been about seven years old, which is ancient of days in the feral survival world. I'll miss the old girl. Mostly cranky Mama Cat but deep beyond the mistrust of a feral cat's heart, she found a way to let me know she was saying Goodbye and had maybe as much as she was capable of, letting me know she appreciated the shelter, food and love.
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