Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Great big scary Littlefoot-eating monsters

apparently have taken up residence in my back yard. Littlefoot will not go outside after dark unless I am with him, and even then, he is more interested in going back inside than he is in emptying his bladder. He started this silly behavior over the holiday weekend, and I chalked it up to the fact that my neighbors were outside having a bonfire until quite late. It's been a week now and he's still timid, so I don't know what's up. It's possible that he's scared of the deer (assuming there are some in the back yard most nights, which wouldn't surprise me) or scared of the little grey catling or who knows. I really hope that what I saw briefly on my way home one night last week wasn't a coyote, although if there are some in the area, that would be a reasonable thing for JiffyPopButt to be afraid of.

Speaking of the little grey cat, all of the no-kill shelters are full, Animal Control offered to send someone out to catch and kill the cats, and the only animal friends-type group I could reach suggested that I either catch the cat and give it a "foster home." Erm, yeah. My former co-worker has "fostered" cats--that's why she has eight. So I've hardened my heart and am following the theory of "if I don't feed it, it will move on."


8 comments:

Scott said...

Oh, come on, you know you want a kitty.

Becs said...

No, Scott, she's right. Don't feed it. I can't believe I'm saying this. But "fostering" is how I ended up with eight (formerly nine since Polly has gone to the great catnip patch in the sky) extra cats. Gah. You have my whole-hearted animal-loving support.

Mike from Eerie w/ a much smaller neck said...

Jammies is a big girl. She will do what the thinks is right, and can make up her own mind without a bunch of well meaning buddinkies telling her what she needs to do.

(Give her a week.)

Sherri said...

Last time she fed a cat, she found the cat's owners and there was much reuniting. She gave them the catfood she bought, I think. That's what I remember.

Actually, she probably doesn't need to feet the catling. There are plentiful rodents, the weather is warmer, and the hydrangea makes a wonderful shelter. Catling might do better if socialized, but if no shelter can take it, then perhaps the wisest thing would be to let it stay wild. If it seems to want to reside, trapping it and getting it fixed, then letting it go again would be the next best thing.

Jiffypopbutt cannot be trusted around cats, as he would try to find the squeaker and it would be very bad if he did -- someone would be going to the vet, and I suspect it would be Jiffypopbutt.

Anonymous said...

Tessa takes spells of being fearful of various things. One time it is out the front door, then it is out the back door. It gives me the fracking creeps when she acts that way. It makes me think she sees things I can't. Deer and coyotes are out of the question here.

Currently she is cowering in the bathroom because we are under attack by the thunder monster.

~Z~

Jammies said...

Scott, you're projecting. You know you're the one who wants a malevolent furball just like your sister's.

Thanks, Becs, that helps.

Mike, nobody is being a buttinski--I did post all this where people could read it and comment, and I'm happy for the feedback. And no, this time I am not giving in to the temptation of feeding the stray.

Sherri, your recollection is right on the money. Unfortunately, I doubt that this is someone's lost cat, given its age. It's more likely a feral from the colony down the road or else some asshole dumped a pregnant cat. You're right about the time of year, and at least this time, kitty isn't black. I'll resist feeding it and see what happens.

Jammies said...

And Z, yes, Jiffypopbutt is also afraid of the thunder monster, the individual raindrops and apparently, blades of grass. I find it more irritating than spooky, but I suspect that's because Tessa is much less idiotic than my dog and you suspect she might have a reason to be nervous.

Sherri said...

Jammies, I will show up in a few weeks covered in mysterious, fascinating cat hair, and I will sit in the back yard and cause Jiffypopbutt's two braincells to collide as cat hair competes with fear of vicious blades of grass.

Maybe a bug made a threatening noise...or he's worried you might have a FUD in there he's not getting. JPB is very sensitive someone, somewhere might have a FUD and he isn't getting any.

Has he hidden his comb yet?