Cathy's Catch

All day dark lowering clouds had been threatening rain, and as I picked up my trapping partner at 4 I wondered if we would make it back without getting soaked. 

Cathy started trapping with me last year.  She's a great trapping partner.  When she says she is available she always shows up on time and ready to go. I can't lift anything heavier than an empty trap without causing serious back pain, so she does all the lifting.  She has the patience to sit quietly for hours when needed and is truly dedicated to the care of the cats. 

With a snap trap, she's an expert, but her first attempt at drop trapping did not go so well.  She dropped the door and caught the cat, but the tip of his tail was caught under the door. She intended to raise the door just an little bit so he could pull his tail in.  (The door is not heavy; he probably would have pulled it in anyway, and if not, we were there in seconds to put him into the transfer cage.)  Unfortunately Cathy raised the door too much and the cat took off. It took us two hours to get him back into the trap.   Tonight I am determined that Cathy will handle the drop rope again and this time she will make a catch. 

We've been to this colony before. It's the one where the five kittens were born and died mysteriously a couple of weeks ago.  We hope to catch the mother cat and get her spayed before she has more kittens. 

The caregiver comes to help us prepare the drop trap with canned food and kibble.  We run the window down a bit on the passenger side of the van and pass the spindle that holds the drop rope through the window so Cathy can hold it, then I get into the driver's seat and we wait. 

The first one into the trap is the only cat in the colony that seems to be totally non-feral. In my mind, I call him Snuffles because he has chronic URI, but he seems otherwise healthy and well fed.   He's been trapped and released several times and does not seem to mind so long as lunch is involved.  We are glad of his help; seeing him happily eating encourages other cats to enter the trap too. 

 

Soon another cat enters the trap but the caregiver, who is standing nearby in the yard and talking to us quietly through my open window, indicates that it has already been altered.   Both cats eat quietly, while a few others show up and begin to mill around the trap.  After a few minutest the first two cats leave, apparently satisfied. We wait.  Cautiously a large tabby steps through the door.  Front feet, pause, reaching forward for the food, one back foot and then, ever so slowly, the other.  The caregiver says he does not think that one is done and we can't see an ear notch.

 

"Drop the door." I say, and instantly Cathy does so.

 

I am out of the van and hurrying to the trap and the caregiver is there before me.  As the cat stops jumping around we can both see that it's ear is not notched. 

 

Cathy comes running with a transfer cage and a blanket.   We get the cat into the cage, cover it, and Cathy carries it back to the van.  Her first successful catch with a drop trap!

 

We reset the trap and I hand Cathy the spindle again.  I add a can of sardines to the bowl of kibble in the trap and get back into the van.  The caregiver brings a new pan the Kelly sent along with us over to the trap, puts it inside and pours water into it. He explains that he occasionally gives the cats milk in a pan and he hopes that if they see him pouring something they will expect milk and go for it.

 

It does not take the cats long to come back and start walking around the trap. Snuffles goes inside confidently and is apparently delighted to find the fish.   He settles down to feast. 

 

The other cats are not happy.  They try to reach through the cage with their paws but the food is too far inside to get to.  To our delight we notice amongst them the mother cat that lost her kittens a couple of weeks ago.   She is interested in the trap, but wary.  She sits down near the van to think about it.

 

 

 

 

She is a pretty creature but seems somewhat gaunt.  That would be normal if she were nursing kittens, but she isn't.

 

After some consideration, the little girl wanders back to the trap.  She circles it, sniffing.  Two other cats are also examining the trap, and inside Snuffles continues to much happily.   The female approaches the door and takes a step inside.  She stops, picks up a bit of food and eats it.  She looks around, her ears twitch and then she backs right out of the trap. 

 

Cathy makes a huff of exasperation but we both know it is just a matter of time. 

 

Suddenly Cathy says "Oh, pee-ew!" and we both smell the unmistakable odor of male cat spray.  There is now no doubt that Cathy's first catch, safe in the back of the van, is a male.  I'm glad the windows are open. 

 

We are talking to the caregiver in low voices through the window when I glance at the trap and see the female cat approaching it again in a purposeful manner. Cathy is on high alert as the cat walks straight into the trap and begins to eat beside Snuffles.  She drops the door.

 

For a small female cat, she certainly can make a fuss.  She leaps about in fear and poor Snuffles crouches in a corner out of her way.  Kibble, cans, water and the bowls all go flying.

 

The three of us quickly get the cat into a transfer cage. I snap on the lock and Cathy covers the cage and puts it into the van. 

 

The trap is a mess. I remove the empty water bowl and use a window scraper from the van to pull the food into the center of the trap so the cats can't help themselves by sticking paws through the sides.  There is water mixed with sardine juice on the floor, pooled in a back corner, and soggy kibble and bits of fish all over the trap that is the floor.  To a cat it should look and smell irresistible. 

 

Snuffles watches me fixing up the trap. I pet him and before I am back in the van he is back inside the trap, happily continuing his lunch.  

 

 

We wait.  After several minutes other cats return to the trap area.  They sniff and one tries to reach the food with a paw through the side of the trap but can't get anything.  A round plump tabby enters the trap but the caregiver shakes his head; he's already altered.  

 

From the other side of the house a new cat appears.  It's handsome dark tabby tuxedo, long and well-muscled and almost certainly male. 

 

"I wish you could get him." says the caregiver.  "He sprays all over the place and he's responsible for most of the kittens born here."

 

Cautiously the newcomer approaches the trap.  He sniffs at the side of it, and then, apparently emboldened by the two cats already eating, he walks right in like the king he is.

 

Cathy drops the door. 

 

The whole trap shakes as the two feral cats leap and grab at the wires. I am glad I put twist ties at strategic points to prevent the walls coming apart.  Snuffles has once again crouched in his corner and seems more intent on avoiding the other cats than on escape,  but the other two are going ballistic as we rush over. 

 

The first cat into the transfer cage is the plump tabby; his ear notch is plain to see.  Cathy drops the door again and I back the cage away, open it and let the cat go.   On the next try we get the big guy into the transfer cage. He has a huge head and his body pretty much fills the cage. Cathy says he is heavy and I have no doubt he is.  

 

Snuffles is once again released. He walks a few steps away and sits down, waiting to be petted. 

 

The caregiver tells us he thinks all the cats that hang out near the house have probably now been trapped, but there are cats in the garage on the other side of the yard.   He and Cathy pick up the drop trap and carry it over there while I back the van around and park where we can operate the trap. 

 

The caregiver goes into the house, and we settle down to wait.  Because of the angle the van is at, I now have the drop rope.  We watch as a small grey cat, probably last year's kitten, comes out of the garage and checks out the trap.  We see a tortie wandering in the field behind the garage, and a few minutes later she comes around the building and also begins to look the trap over along with another tabby.  The little grey one goes near the door and looks in, but something...perhaps one of the larger cats nearby...spooks him and he runs into the garage.  Suddenly a small orange cat runs past the van and approaches the trap.  We watch him join the other cats cautiously trying to find a way to get the delicious-smelling food inside.  The little grey on returns and again shows great interest, but it is the orange one that enters the trap.  He goes to the food and starts to eat. 

 

We'd really like to get the little grey one too.  We think the two half-grown kittens may be siblings and comment to each other how sad it is that they were not caught last year and given homes.  Cathy asks if we were to trap both could we take them?  We have only on transfer cages left and our appointment is for four cats.   I am sure we could get both smaller cats into one transfer cage....I'd be able to transfer one to a separate cage when we get home..... and I am willing to beg the vets to take an extra if we get one. 

 

 The two bigger cats continue to examine the cage from the outside and the small grey one lays down at the front of the garage and folds his paws under as if he intends to lie there for a while and watch his sibling eat. 

 

I am vaguely aware of the other cats but my focus is on the orange one.  Suddenly he lifts his head and glances to the side.  I drop the door. 

 

When the last cat is safely in the van, Cathy goes to tell the caregiver we got him and are leaving while I wind up the rope.  We leave the trap. We will be back and the little grey cat will hopefully still be there.  

 

Driving back to Moncton on Coverdale road, we see a bald eagle.  It swoops so low over the van that I can clearly see it's curved yellow beak and one of its eyes.  Just one more hazard waiting for homeless cats. 

 

I drop Cathy off.....David will put the cats into the shed for me at home....and she remarks that it is just past 6 pm.   An amazingly quick trapping, we got the female we were worried about and the big male the caregiver really wants altered, and Cathy got her first, and second and third, drop trap catch.  And it still has not begun to rain. 



Sometimes We Win

It was a cold evening for mid May.  I wore a sweatshirt under my hoodie and the knitted toque that says ca-r-ma.org on it which I had put away not expecting to need it again this year was once more covering my ears.   David reminded me there were gloves in the van and when Cathy showed up in a light jacket insisted that she take a hoodie along too. 

The colony is one of our larger ones and is somewhat unique in that a lot of the cats are semi feral and are allowed to go into and out of the cargivers' home.  Over the past several years all the cats have been altered except for four and we set out on this bitter overcast day determined to catch those four.  Unfortunately, three of the four were amongst the true ferals of the colony, not easy to catch. 

When we arrived the caregivers had the more-or-less friendly cat inside the house.  A pretty young grey tortie, she needed to be spayed before she could have kittens. The other three cats were amongst the cluster of cats in the yard.

Since we knew we had to get three cats out of approximately two dozen, the best thing to do was to use a drop trap.  Cathy and I set one up last week and the caregivers, husband and wife, had been feeding inside it ever since.  Today, as requested, they had not fed until we arrived so the cats were hungry and darted about our feet or watched from a short distance hoping our arrival meant food.

It certainly did.  We put sardines into a dish in the trap and then I backed away, playing out the line until I stood under a big tree with Cathy and the caregivers.   The caregivers told us which cats we were looking for.  There was the mother cat, grey and fluffy, and her two last year's offspring both short haired, one grey and one black. Unfortunately the same cat had another black kitten that we altered earlier this year and the only way to distinguish it from it's sibling was by the notch in the ear of the altered one.

The cats began to mill around the trap and soon one went inside. It was one of the already altered cats.  Several minutes went by, and other cats began to go inside or try to reach the food through the sides of the cage.  One big orange guy hung in there having a real feast, and the, suddenly, there was the grey fluffy mother cat.  She approached the cage cautiously but with determination and in seconds she was inside. 

Down went the door and we hurried to put her into a transfer cage and release the other cats trapped with her, all of which were already altered. 

We re-set the trap and soon caught the grey short haired cat.  Once he was safely inside a transfer cage in the van, we resumed our vigil.  The caregivers went inside and came back out, taking turns standing with us and a few of the friendlier cats came around our feet so that we could actually touch some of them.   It was getting later and bitterly cold.  The husband said he could almost see his breath, and the black cat still evaded us. 

We re-baited the trap with kibble and more sardines and decided to retreat to the van. I turned it around to face the trap from a distance and ran the trip rope through the driver's partly open window.  The caregiver went inside and Cathy and I sat quietly watching the cats and talking in whispers.  

The whole colony was very interested in that trap.  A few cats went inside while others, including both of the black short hairs, examined it from all angles.   Time moved slowly, but suddenly we got an unexpected distraction.

One of the less timid already altered cats leaped onto the hood of the van and spent several minutes staring at us.  The notch in his left ear means he is altered and it is nice to see that he is plump and healthy-looking with a thick warm coat. 

A few minutes later, the husband came out of the house with two small cans of cat food.  He opened the cans and dropped the food through the top of the trap.  When he called, even more cats came running and began trying to figure out how to get at the goodies.  

Unfortunately some of the food fell close to the sides of the trap and the cats began to reach through with their paws and pull it out.  We watched in frustration as both black cats took bits of food in this manner and we worried because if one went into the trap we knew we could not from this distance tell whether the ear was notched or not.  

It was 8 pm and Cathy had to be home at 9 to meet a potential adopter for a kitten she was fostering.

"One last try", I said "If we don't get him, we'll try again later and hope he's male so he doesn't have kittens in the meantime."

I got out of the van, opened up the trap and scraped all the food away from the sides and into the middle of the floor.  I shut it again and went back to the van where we agreed to wait until 8:15, not a minute more.

All the cats had scattered when I approached the trap and for several minutes nothing happened.   Then a big white cat with black spots, one of the largest in the colony, came out of the porch and sat down near the cage.  Two or three others began to approach again and then, there amongst them, was one of the black cats.  He sniffed and stood on his hind legs touching the side of the cage.  He walked around it, turned away and then turned back.  When he got to the door, he started to enter.

I'm sure we both held out breath as the cat sniffed cautiously and moved, oh so slowly, into the cage.  Once his whole body was inside I let the trip rope go.  The cat leaped but it was too late.  Cathy was out of the van in a flash and carrying a transfer cage to get him secured.  Miracle of miracles, when we got a good look at the cat inside the transfer cage we saw that it's ear was not notched!  

The caregivers put the cat they had taken inside into the fourth transfer cage and helped ups to clean and fold up the trap.   On the way back into town we put the heater on but we were also warmed by a sense of triumph at having finally, after all this time, finished trapping at this colony.   Dee came and  took the mother cat to be spayed at Elmwood next day since I had only three appointments at Maritime.   The short haired grey cat and the black one turned out to be male and all the animals did well in surgery and went back to their colony prepared for a healthier and more peaceful life. 

A New Season Part 2

The morning after our successful trapping, David and I took the cats to Vet Care.  Brenda was there to greet us and I wonder, not for the first time, if the company knows what an asset she is to them.   Always cheerful and interested in the animals, she gives great customer service whether we're there to buy the ruinously expensive food Snowfire needs or to deliver homeless cats for altering. 

I tell her about the pregnant cat.  I ask that if Dr Drmac thinks she cannot be spayed safely he just send her back with us and we'll let her deliver.  I explain that although she is feral and even he can't touch her, the caregiver is very attached.

All day I wonder about the cats, and it is with great relief, when Cathy and I pick them up, that we learn all went well.  Three of the cats were female and all were to some degree pregnant.  With five kittens already in the colony, if these cats had delivered a colony of 30 or so could have become a colony of 50 if we were not able to take the kittens in.

When we return to the colony the caregiver is anxiously waiting. He has a shed ready to shelter the female cats while they recover.  He and Cathy take the three transfer cages to the shed.  The remaining cage is just inside the tailgate of the van, facing out.  I slide up the door and the grey male cat inside looks at me with big yellow eyes. He doesn't move.  I talk to him and he regards me with cool curiosity but stays where he is, pressed against the back wall of the cage.  Finally, I put a hand behind the cage and stick a finger through, gently poking the occupant.  He looks away, then gives me a quick, startled glance, leaps from the cage and dashes across the yard.   

As they return the transfer cages to the van the caregiver tells us about a tragedy that occurred at the colony overnight.   Just this morning he found one of the baby kittens dead in the yard.  The other four were dead inside the shelter.  He does not know what happened.  He and his wife heard nothing during the night.  Perhaps some animal got into the shelter or maybe a male cat disposed of the kittens in an effort to put the mother back into heat.   As he speaks he points out the mother cat crossing the yard.  She appears OK, but her hind legs and tail are wet for no reason we can determine. 

I am horrified.  In my mind I see the female cat, under attack, grabbing one of the kittens and running into the yard in search of safety. Hearing her babies killed as she ran and then being overtaken by the attacker and not being able to save even one.  

It's tough to be a trapper and hear about these things first hand, but it confirms for me that we did the right thing in aborting the female cats.   Some unidentified but deadly danger lurks in this colony and we really need to get all the cats altered so there are no more kittens to die in this manner.

A positive post script:  We delivered food to the colony today and the caregiver said all the cats that went to the vet are doing well.  Mama, he says, is quite grouchy and swiped at him when he offered her a can of special food, but she is well and fully recovered from surgery. The mother of the dead kittens appears to be alright too, but she is at the top of my list for our next trapping. 

A New Season Part 1

Trapping started late this year.  Slowly melting snow kept the yards and fields soggy and cold weather made surgery inadvisable for the female cats.

Unfortunately, Mother Nature did not see fit to delay the breeding season along with the spring. 

It's already May and we have barely begun trapping.  We've taken in a few cats already, but one expedition came up empty handed and in a couple of cases some of the cats taken in had already been altered.....either someone forgot the ear notch or they were done by an owner who later abandoned them. 

Not discouraged, Cathy and I headed out to very large colony in the late afternoon of a cool but sunny day.  I was feeling optimistic because we had placed a drop trap at the colony and asked the caregivers to feed inside it and not feed on the trapping day until we arrived.

As it turned out, the caregiver had misunderstood and put out dry kibble earlier in the day.  This definitely does not help, but once their caregiver dumped a big can of canned food into dishes in the trap the cats were interested.   They prowled around the trap, sniffing.  One went in, then another.  In the late afternoon light we strained to see if the cats in the trap had notches in their ears.  Most did.  A lot of the cats in the big colony look alike, so although the caregiver knows them well he was not sure in some cases if a particular cat had already been fixed. 

While we waited the caregiver told us that a cat that had been obviously pregnant on our last visit had delivered five kittens and was living with them inside a shelter near the house.  The kittens were only a few days old, at which age they really need the immunity they get from their mother's milk.  We knew we would try to take them into foster care in six or seven weeks, but for the moment they seemed secure and the caregiver was ready to ensure nobody disturbed them so the mother would not move them. 

Another heavily pregnant female entered the trap. I dropped the door, catching her and two other cats.

The cats paniced, as is usual when they are trapped, and began to leap and pull at the sides of the cage.  Suddenly one of the side panels on the cage fell in.  Two of the cats bolted but we were able to reach the cage, grab the fallen panel and put it back in place before the pregnant female could escape.

As we got the cat into a transfer cage, I could tell the caregiver was not happy.  He's a tough middle aged country man, but when it comes to animals he has a heart of pure mush.  "She is almost ready to deliver. "he said.  "You're not going to abort are you?"

Regretfully, I told him that we would be doing that.  Aborting kittens makes me sad too, but the fact is there is no place in this world for more cats.  During trapping season the females are pregnant or nursing all the time.  We can't spay nursing mothers because we risk the kittens dying, so if we did not abort pregnant cats we could not spay at all.  

The caregiver then expressed concern for the cat herself.  She is feral, but is one of the older cats in the colony and he is quite attached. He calls her "Mama" and she is very likely the mother, grandmother or other ancestor of most of the colony.  I assured him that she would be seen by a very skilled vet and nothing should go wrong.  

Re-setting the trap we caught one more cat, and then the cats seemed so shy away.  They were not hungry and although they would come fairly close when their caregiver called, they shied away from Cathy and I.   We had an appointment at Vet Care for four cats and did not want to leave with less. 

"I wonder", said Cathy "If the cats would come to the trap if we weren't here.  Let's go away and let the caregiver try to trap two more."

We got into the van and drove away from the house.  I turned around and parked on the culvert at the end of the lane where we could see the caregiver and the trap but  the cats did not notice us. 

We watched the caregiver sit on a pile of logs in the yard, the trip rope from the trap in hand.  He must have called the cats, because even from a distance we could see them running across the yard, and, tails high, milling around his feet.   Very shortly he got up, picked up the trap and and carried it over near a garage on the property.   He disappeared from sight for a couple of minutes and then we saw him running to get a transfer cage. 

We drove back into the yard and helped get two more cats out of the trap and into transfer cages.   We left the drop trap where it was because there are more unaltered cats in the colony and we know we will be back there soon.

As we drove away I was happy that we had the four cats, but my mind was on the very pregnant one, trusting Dr Drmac's skill, but still concerned that she survive the surgery.  I thought about the kittens, too, snug in the shelter with their mother cat.  I hoped they, too would be safe and that there would be a foster home available when they were ready to find homes.