I'm a Slave to a Feral Cat Colony

[Michigan Swamp Buck]

I haven't had a pet that I have chosen to own for at least ten plus years. The last cat I had, which I brought home, was a male cat that I had neutered. It wasn't a few years later when he got a urinary tract infection that would have killed him after intense suffering. Apparently, that happens to cats that are neutered. The operation to save him cost over $300; it was only a year later when he was in the same shape, and not having the cash, I had to take him out back. That was devastating for me, esp. since my mother had just passed recently. Afterward, I vowed never to have another pet that wasn't small enough to flush down the toilet when it died.

Well, one lone kitten showed up in a rainstorm, so I took him in. However, I was reluctant to have him neutered because of the last cat. He grew up and would do as male cats do when they have the goods intact. He'd go off and fight other cats to breed. Many times he'd be gone for days, and one day he had a little kitten with him when he came home. We tried to coax it into the house, but it got spooked when the screen door hit it on its rear and we could never get too close again.

Well, we fed the cats outside and sure enough, once that new female grew up, it was having litters out under logs and in the briar bushes. That began a problem I'm still trying to deal with today. Those two cats are long gone, but the feral cat colony is large and growing. As much as I feed and water them, help them with worm meds, flea and tick treatments, and try to gain their trust, there are only a few that would be worthy as house pets.

Now, I have some money to deal with this by using a method of cat control where you catch, neuter/spay, and then release. Basically, the only alternative is to euthanize the whole lot. Other than taking them out back to the pet cemetery, this is the least cruel thing to do for them. I have seen some horrific things these cats go through, many never make it to adulthood, some eventually disappear do to various reasons like predators, and wounds from the cats that are fighting all the time. 

There is one cat that was the runt of the litter and it became attached to me. I took good care of him and he bulked out to become battle cat to the extreme. He has gotten so badly injured during his mating and territory fights, that if I hadn't patched him up and gave him antibiotics, he would had died a horrible death on a few occasions. So, we tried a vet service that offer cheap rates for feral cats as long as you brought them in inside a live trap (the only one within a hour's drive). We were going to trap two cats and had an appointment to have them fixed. We had already taken four cats in to this place that became house cats and got a reduced rate for fixing pets. But when we couldn't get the feral cats to go into the trap, one cat bit my girlfriend. It was the day of the appointment and she left a message about the situation, sobbing as she did so. They never answered or return our calls. At least we still have the live trap, I guess that is mine now.

Given the situation, I called every vet within a 20 mile radius and made an appointment for battle cat to get neutered at the closest vet that had the cheapest rates, just to see if I wanted to do more cats there. They gave him his initial checkup with blood work and a rabies shot, but because they only did surgeries on Thursdays, I had to wait another 3 weeks to get him snipped. Today was the day, and he couldn't be fed after midnight (9 hours basically). I had not fed him for 27 hours, because he is an outdoor cat, and that was how it happened to work out.

I let them know how he had been doing, and I told them he was under the weather for around a week after his visit, but was back to normal now. The lady at the desk and I determined it was the flea, tick, and ear mite meds I put between his shoulder blades, apparently, that caused his illness, they never told me that I needed to place the medicine up higher, where his neck and head meet, until now. OK, moving along, I told them his food was withheld for more than 24 hours, but since he was outdoors until 5 am this morning, the lady at the desk thought he may have eaten a mouse or something. She talked to the vet and came back and said that we will have to reschedule for another week (a month since his first visit), and keep him indoors when we withhold his food, and then he could get fixed.

I got upset and said that they don't understand, that this cat is out of control, and if I can't get him fixed soon, I'll have to take him out. "Take him out? What do mean?" Well, I told her and she didn't like being spoken to that way, apparently, so I told her I'm 61 years old and I feel I can say whatever I want to. Guess what? Now I need a new vet, but considering it was a vet office in a shed on a family farm where I had to park next to the chicken coop, maybe this was for the best. Now, I have an appointment on Monday with the new vet, who, although a little farther away, is cheaper overall. The farm vet better send his files over by tomorrow, or I'm going down to their office and share some language with them that they will not like in the least.

This new vet does procedures every day in an office in town, they are cheaper, and they got him in right away due to a cancellation, something I'm sure the farm vet wouldn't do as they only do procedures once a week. I'll get the best of the lot fixed, at least the ones I can catch and deal with, otherwise, I have to man up and solve this problem like the real farmers do, out back. I want to have them around, but not the constant litters, cat fights, and kitty cologne spray. The horrible things I've seen with these feral cats would give that lady at the desk nightmares for months, if not years, if she saw the things I have. I'm sure it'll be good for my fictional stories, but that might be the best I can say about that.

Thanks for reading all this; it helps me because I wanted to punch that bitch. Then afterward, I had a doctor's appointment, and my BP was sky high as I was so pissed off. Anyway, if you have suggestions, lay them on me; otherwise, I'm just letting off some steam before my cat overlords return and demand more tribute.

[Michigan Swamp Buck]

I've looked at some things online, and the Trap/Neuter/Release is the best option besides euthanasia. Repellents, fences, etc., were suggestions to keep them away. Otherwise, relocation was a recommendation, something I considered, but that merely makes it someone else's problem.

I had thought to get the girls fixed first, then no litters and no cats in heat, but the males, esp. battle cat, are causing the most problems fighting. Then there is the fact that five adults out of the whole bunch have a chance as house pets, due to their willingness to enter the house to eat. The rest are a lost cause for the most part. They won't fall for the live traps, and there is no grabbing them and forcing them without protective armor.

I should sight in and do some target practice; it may come to that. The infestation I suspect my cats came from was far worse and required the homeowner to take them out, all but three I think. The local animal control won't do a damn thing about it due to backlog, and other options are animal control for people who live in other counties or this one place that does feral cats that won't return our calls.

It is one of those situations that any solution is not very good, and the best solution is the hardest, at least for me after having them around all the time. If I can't get them fixed and animal control is useless, then starve them, drive them off, abandon them far away where they will likely starve to death or get killed by people who will have to take care of the problem, or kill them myself with a firearm or poison. I'm not the guy to do these poor critters that kind of harm.

[FCD]

A good lot of these "vets" don't really have any interest in animals at all.  They're much more interested in your money!!

I guess I don't understand all the delays.  This is like a 5 minute procedure which can be done on any table.  I don't understand why they're making such a federal case out of the whole thing!  Hell, we just do it ourselves with our (soon to be) steers!  Used to have our large animal vet come out and do it, until once she pulled me aside and said..."Hey, you guys can just do this yourselves.".  She even gave us some of the stuff we didn't already have.  (Now that's a REAL vet!).

Of course, she's also the one who showed up in the middle of the night, at 9 months pregnant, in a snowstorm, to give us a hand with a momma' cow in some serious distress with a breech birth on a calf we couldn't figure out how to handle.

Edit - I can't stand small animal vets anymore! They're like the dentist to me (i.e. make cavities in your head so they can turn around and charge you for filling). I rank them a step below used car salesmen.

[Michigan Swamp Buck]

@"FCD"#472 

Just the fact that I was desperate enough to suggest that if I can't get Battle Cat fixed, I will have to take him out should have been seen as desperation. But he would be dead now from severe open wounds and abscesses if I hadn't gotten him well on my own. I can't allow him to go out and fight like that, so refusing to do the procedure because of my statement was merely sentencing the cat to die by my hand or from fighting all the time. 

Obvious that the lady was more concerned about "the way I was talking to her", rather than the health and well-being of my cat. My money wasn't that important either and apparently they weren't worried about me telling people in the area about their vet service, and I have been, believe me.

Also, there has been some good suggestions over at DI, things that these pet-vets don't know about, or won't tell you, like how to "do-it-yourself".

[FCD]

Awww...I don't want you to take Battle Cat out!!  Battle Cat sounds cool!  Very cool!

We had a Battle Cat once.  He turned out to be the most awesome cat I've ever known!  We ultimately had him for many years, and as he got older he came inside and lived peacefully with the other critters we have (another cat at the time, and a Labrador pup (who was a maniac)).  His name was "Scooter"; that's what the neighbor called him, so we just kept the name.  He was an alley cat, tom, to the bone!  Just the baddest of the bad asses.

I knew the neighbors had this cat, but they were kind of weird.  They had a young son, and I guess they got this cat as a buddy for him when he was very small.  (They lived across the street from us, back when we lived in suburbia).  It was obvious right away that Scooter was an outdoor cat, and he was fully intact.  He was also a bruiser of a tom.  As noted, this was one bad-ass cat.  In fact, he was such a bad-ass I was actually kinda' skeered of this animal.  It was very clear, he could do some serious damage to a person in short order, and he would have nothing to do with people.  He'd just snarl and run away.  On the rare occasion the wife or I ever saw him he was usually eating some food they put outside for him.  He never came inside. This was a true "wild animal".

We had a whole pack of racoons which lived in the storm drains in front of our house.  And these coons would come out at night and just tear shit up.  They got into everything.  Scooter had a vowed war-badge with these coons, and he would regularly take on 2, or 3, sometimes even 4 of these animals at once!  Scooter was missing half of one of his ears, he had scars all over him, and fur ripped out.  We'd hear him outside at night going at it with these raccoons...all night long.  He'd never give up.  He'd fight for hours with these damn coons.  He'd fight so loud we could hear their bodies slamming into each other and getting thrown on the ground; this was serious stuff.  I would have never thought in a million years we'd ever befriend this animal...and I had no intention to trying either!!!  Zero!!  Scooter was like a force of Nature, and you couldn't stop this animal.  Never seen anything like it.

Anyway, around this time, I was actually living out of town in MI (a place you might know, MSB!).  We were down in Harrison Twp. though.  I'd fly back on the weekends, and this is when I'd see Scooter the Battle Cat.  I'd show up at the house and he'd be on our front step.  Our front faced south, so in the winter this was a warm sunny spot to lay.  The minute I'd show up, he'd bolt (and vanish).  This went on for like a year.  Then, he wouldn't bolt, he'd just run out into the yard and watch, and if I went in the garage, he'd go back to laying on the porch.  I didn't mind Scooter being there because I knew no raccoons dared show up, so this was good.  The neighbor never took care of him at all by this point.  Their little boy had grown older and outgrown cuddly, furry, little pets (which Scooter never was).  So he was on his own.

Well, the wife loves cats, and we had her cat back in MI, but she'd made up her mind she was going to befriend him.  First step was feeding him (which she did).  Then, it was making a safe place to sleep (which he of course acted like he hated...until you weren't looking and he went right in there!).  We eventually came back to the house (along with the wife's female, spayed, cat).  Scooter let her cat know on day #1 (in no uncertain terms)..."You stay inside and I'll let you live.  You set one foot outside and...notify your next of kin...because you will cease to exist as a cat on that day!"  Wife's cat was terrified of this cat!  She would run and hide and not come out for the rest of the day, and when she did come out she'd be looking around like Scooter was around every corner! (Seriously, Scooter was that bad-ass of a cat!  This animal was pure "warrior"!)  After a while, I got a Lab pup I'd been meaning to get for several years, because my old Lab (Bless her heart) had passed away.  So, I had this completely insane Lab puppy!

At first, Scooter put Shelby (my Lab pup) on notice just like he did with the wife's cat (from opposite sides of the front storm door).  Well, if you know Labs, you'll know they ain't skeered of nothin', even as pups.  One day, I wanted to take Shelby outside for a walk in the park by our house.  Scooter was there, on patrol, now laying in the middle of the front yard.  "Ain't NO animal setting foot in this yard, under penalty of DEATH!"...was the look of this cat's body (language).  For my part, I was like..."Fk this cat!!  I'll Fk that cat up, bigtime!!"  My wife is yelling at me (and panicking) to be nice (I'm not nice...by nature).  So I grabbed a 3-iron out of my golf bag and said..."We're going for a walk, dammit!!  Fk this cat!!"  Scooter saw me and Shelby come out of the house, me with a 3-iron in my hand, and somehow that cat knew today was the wrong day to start some shit.  (and he was right!  I was in no mood for it.)  So, he just laid there in the yard.  This was the very first time I ever saw him do something like this.  He didn't even move, just watched!  (this is a really long story, IRL, so I'm going to fast forward here).

In a short time, Shelby and I would be out in the yard.  I had a very strict training regimen with her...training and serious, no BS, Upland and Water Dog training for 15 minutes, buffered by about 25 minutes of fun playtime on both sides of the training session.  (I had trained cross-trained gun-dogs for over 10 years at that point)  Some training involved going to the park and the lake, and other training was basic skills we could do in the yard.  Scooter became a regular fixture for these sessions.  And even if he was somewhere else, he'd hear my whistle, and he'd come bounding up from wherever he was and lay down in the yard and watch (just watch).

One day, after Spring had rolled around, we'd finished our fun-training-fun session and we were just chilling on the porch.  "Shell" was laying in the yard, and Scooter was there too not far away.  This was pretty common now.  Except this time, Scooter the Battle Cat got up and VERY cautiously tip toed across the yard to Shelby.  I told Shelby to 'Stay!' and she knew by then it meant not only stay, but don't move (at all).  She knew Scooter was coming up behind her, but she obeyed.  She'd look at me periodically like..."You know this one is on YOU, Dad...right?  RIGHT???"  I told her it was all good, and we watched Battle Cat approach.  (This was a serious milestone moment!)  Battle Cat walked right up to Shelby and started sniffing her, very gently.  Shelby was a statue...("GOOD Dog!!"  (I was very proud of her for staying put)).  By this time the wife is at the front door, and she's watching all this go on.  We're both kind of shocked.  Scooter the battle cat smelled her up one side and down the other, and looked over at me like..."Okay, she's cool."  Then he did something I would have never expected in a million years; he proceeded to lay down right next to her and put his head down.  I about fell off the porch, seeing this.  Apparently, Battle Cat had found what he thought was an ally in crime.  When he laid down, Shelby relaxed and eventually put her head down, and they both laid there and took a nap.  (no shit!)  My socks damn near shot off my feet all on their own!!  I went inside and the wife and I were talking about how amazing this all was.  At least an hour went by and finally I had to go to the store or something so Shelby had to get up and get in the truck to ride along with me (she went every single place I went, with me, in the truck...except to work).  When she got up, Scooter the battle cat kind of half heartedly ran a few yards and then stopped. Once he saw Shelby and I were leaving in the truck, he went back into the shady spot under the tree and laid down again.  (tired ass cat!).

I don't remember how long it was, but less than two weeks for sure, the wife had also been working on Scooter in various ways.  After a couple weeks, the wife opened the door (and the storm door) one day and called Scooter.  We both watched in complete shock as Scooter the battle hardened cat walked right into the house, jumped up on the couch, and started to go to sleep.  Not 10 seconds later, the wife's cat decided this was her opportunity to pounce.  Well, you didn't pull that shit with Battle Cat cuz he had eyes in the back of his head (and sensors everywhere).  Did I mention Scooter was a giant cat?  He was, probably the biggest cat I've ever known who wasn't just some huge fat cat.  This cat didn't have a single ounce of fat on him, he was solid muscle with some big ol' bones thrown in.  Wife's cat leaped, and Scoot was up on all four's, and swatted her cat not only out of the air, but about twelve times on the way down!  The message was crystal clear...you DON'T mess with Battle Cat...EVER!  It was so devastating that he just went back to sleep.  Her cat was now back on the floor, dazed, going..."WTF just happened???"

Some bizarre way, harmony and balance had been reached.  Her cat never messed with him (or even close) ever again, and he left her alone.  They could both co-habitate with no issues.

We moved away a year or so later.  What to do with Scooter the Battle Cat??  He wasn't our cat.  So the wife went over to the neighbor's house and started to explain the situation.  The neighbor already had it figured out; she'd been watching from out her window all this time.  "Take him.  He's made a home with you guys like nothing I ever thought I'd witness."...she told the wife.

And that was that.  Scooter the Battle Cat moved with us out to the country on a couple hundred acres.  He showed a few raccoons who was boss, killed many a rabbit, no mouse or rat dared come within 20 miles of our place...even tangled with a badger one day (that fight didn't go so well for Battle Cat!)  Bit off a little more than he could chew that day with Billy the Badger!.  But he took his ass-whoopin' in stride like the man he was, got over it, and lived for many years after that happily in and around our house with our animals.

That is a very true story, my friend.  Battle Cat must be given a chance.  There's probably a cat in there somewhere you never dreamed possible!!  Honest.

P.S. - I have so many stories about Battle Cat that even if I started right now, I could probably tell them for many years without stopping!  Scooter the Battle Cat was one of a kind.

P.S.S. - Did I ever mention...I hate cats!  Just hate them with a purple passion!  But Scooter, well, he was different.  I'm not even 100% convinced he was even a cat at all!!!  I think he might have been an....ALIEN!!

[FCD]

Another quick story about Scooter the Battle Cat. ...

(I promise, this one will be short-ish!  LOL!)

Scooter had now been integrated into the family unit for several months.  Shelby still had some "puppy" left in her (Labs don't usually get rid of the internal puppy until about 2+ years).  Shelby was about 6 months at this point.

No matter what, Scooter always loved to lay under the big tree in our front yard, in the shade.  When in doubt, you could always find him there.

One day the wife goes to take Shelby out for a quick walk.  Shelby is going puppy-nuts!  She's like gonzo at the thought of going for a walk with Mom.  Before my wife has her leashed up, this lady comes walking down the street pushing her tiny kid in a baby stroller.  Well, Shelby was friends with everyone on the planet, but this lady doesn't know this.  So, when Shelby goes tearing off like a maddog, running up to this woman and her kid, the lady starts to freak out (like scared).  She doesn't have dogs, so she doesn't understand their body language, and thinks Shelby is going to eat her child!  Shelby was just saying "Hi!" in her crazy puppy way.  So anyway, the wife sees what's going on and takes off running to get Shelby, she's yelling at Shelby to "COME!!" and telling her she's a BAD girl for running off.  I'm out on the porch now, thinking some huge attack in going on, ready to swing into action if required (but the wife has it under control).  She gets a hold of Shelby's collar and clips her into the leash.  This lady is actually pissed!  She's mad as a hornet!  "Keep your goddamned dog on a leash, DAMMIT!!  We could have been KILLED!!"  (needless to say, this was your typical "Karen" (no idea who she was)).  She starts lecturing the wife.  Well, the wife has just about enough of that and tells her to back off, it's a Labrador for cripes sakes!!  The lady is still freaking out.  Anyway...

I didn't catch it at first, but Scooter has now gotten up from under the tree.  (again, this is a 100% TRUE story too).  He's now headed across the yard, and across the street, to where all this commotion is going on.  The wife gets tired of Karen's BS and tells Shelby to "HEEL" (which she immediately does)...and here comes Scooter!  I swear to Gawd, if a cat could talk, this is what I heard Scooter say..."BAD DOG, SHELBY!  BAD GIRL!"  Scooter then proceeds to start batting Shelby in the face, full power!  BAP! BAP-BAP!!!  BAP-BAP-BAP-BAP!!  BAP-BAP!...and one last BAP!...all right on Shelby's mug!  He's pissed!...at Shelby!!  (no kidding!  I've never seen a cat do this...EVER!!).  He smacked her upside the head at least (10) times..."BAD DOG!".  She was ducking and cowering down (she never cowered!)  It was like she was apologizing to that damn cat!  I honestly just about peed myself watching all this!  I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in all my life!  Seriously! Shelby was in big trouble, and he knew it!  So, he was going to reinforce the message..."Thou shalt obey Mom!  Always!"  He was full-on serious too!  Just let her have it, right in the chops!!

 

Funniest animal interaction I ever saw in my entire life!

That was Scooter the Battle Cat.

[Michigan Swamp Buck]

I love battle cat, he is a great house cat, I only said I'd take him out because one day, he is going to get so f'd up, I'll have to put him down. Plus, he is after the other males who are real sweethearts and beating them down all the time. I've even shot at him with the BB-gun to get him to cut it out, but yelling, throwing sticks and acting like an angry mountain gorilla scare the shit out of him and drives him off into the woods.

His name is actually Little Fellow, because he was the runt of his litter. The other cats didn't seem to like him much, and he became attached to me. He'd come out when I got home from work at night and greet me as I got out of my truck. He easily became a house cat and is such a lover. He acts like a kitten indoors, but outside, he is a complete badass.

I took good care of him, wormed him, treated the fleas, ticks, ear mites, etc. He grew and bulked out; he wasn't a little fellow anymore. Then, after a year or so, he developed some big, plump nads and became a badass. He began to fight, spray, and he became quite the Romeo, I'd say he was even a gentle lover to the females in heat, to the degree a cat can be one.

I don't want to take out the battle cat, that's why I took him to the vet and am willing to spend hundreds on him. That bitch at the vet was too dense to understand that; her offense at my "talk" was her emotional reaction. It is likely she has no clue about the true reality of nature and couldn't handle a survival situation. Mother Nature is cruel and uncaring for the most part. I doubt people like that will survive when they have to make the hard choices.

ETA: Great story by the way, thanks.

[F2d5thCav]

MSB,

Good work with the cats.  Help them as you can, they have a overwhelming sense of dignity and are so very intelligent.

That one vet you described sounds like a fool.

We had a colony of five next door a few years ago. Local vet offered free sterilization, so with the permission of their owners, we got them rounded up and "fixed" so that the colony would not grow apace. They only do what nature bids them do.

[Michigan Swamp Buck]

MSB,

Good work with the cats.  Help them as you can, they have a overwhelming sense of dignity and are so very intelligent.

That one vet you described sounds like a fool.

We had a colony of five next door a few years ago.  Local vet offered free sterilization, so with the permission of their owners, we got them rounded up and "fixed" so that the colony would not grow apace.  They only do what nature bids them do.

That was the gal at the desk that was the fool, the actual vet was cool, but she was much closer to my age. I suppose I should forgive her for her ignorance and attitude toward me, but I really hope that when I badmouth that vet to the folks around here, it will come back to them through the grapevine. I won't go to FB and do that, although they would deserve it IMO.

The thing is, I must suppose that people who work as a vet or in a vet's office or the zoo have a real love for animals. But like others have said, its all about the money they can fleece from you because of your love for "Fluffy" or "Fido". 

Nature can care less what we think and feel unless it supports the natural system as it really is. Pain, suffering, and death are what nature is all about, and we must reproduce to continue the cycle. All the happy-lovey crap is an illusion in my opinion, meant to control you for nature's purpose of reproduction, or survival of the fittest, or whatever it is she wants from our existence.

ETA: I'm of the opinion that our physical reality is actually Hell that we are doomed to repeat forever. I'm not talking about reincarnation here (although I could be), but more like "Ground Hog's Day" where the same thing happens over and over again forever. A new cosmological theory has the universe inside a supermassive black hole that we have no hope of ever leaving to see what else is out there. We are in a dark universe in the bottomless pit of hell.