In getting the four feral cats spayed and neutered It was vital that which ever cat we take, that cat had to be in the house at the time, preferably with the others outside.

We brought the cat carrier into the den because that's the entry into the house that we and all our friends use. We have a front door, but when that door bell rings, it is certainly a salesman.

I was able to pick the little black male up, insert him into the carrier and close the door. Naturally, there was a struggle, but we felt a little relieved that we finally got started. We arrive at the vet. Lily takes care of the paper work and I stay with the little guy.

"WHAT IS THE NAME OF YOUR CAT MA'AM?" Lily looks at me with a blank stare. Obviously, we were not prepared for this. I thought a bit and blurted out "MILES". After all he was all black and the son of Freddy the Freeloader. A tribute to both Freddy and Miles Davis.

We picked up Miles later in the day. He seemed okay, just a little out of it. Lily reminded me as we were driving home, that we must come up with names for the other feral cats. I released Miles in the house so he could rest and eat a bite. It didn't take long until he wanted out. He immediately went down the stairs to the backyard where he was surrounded by his siblings. Boy! did they check him out. They were sniffing every inch of him. This would be their introduction to the veterinary aroma. I saw this as a sign of trouble ahead.

We just couldn't pick up the others and put them in the carrier like Miles. Miles was much mellower than the other three. This called for intricate planning, so we held back on feeding them. We then put a little bit of canned food in the carrier with the door open and while the kitty was eating, I would sneak up stealth-like and close the door. Great plan heh??? NOOOOOOOO!!!

1. The carrier reeked of the same odor that Miles had coming back from the vet.

2. I'm not as stealth-like as I used to be.

3. These cats were taught how to survive by Mama Kitty who was way too hip for us.

4. Who knows what Miles had told the others. I'm sure they must have communicated on some level.

Naturally, I would have to be near the carrier so I could close the door while the kitty was eating. The remaining three sensed that there was something fishy with this setup.

Several mornings pass with pitiful results. Lily has to leave for her job around 9:30 AM so that leaves us a small window of opportunity. We tried to work as a team. It was Lily's job to prevent the kitties from going to other parts of the house, if and when they come in. We tried positioning the carrier in different places in the den but close to door so we could have more control. All this to no avail. "Patience is a virtue, possess it if you can. Seldom in a woman and never in a man."

The black female would go in the carrier to eat, but wouldn't stay more than a second. I figured out a method by which I would be able to close the carrier door with a long string while I remained hidden. Every thing had to go off like clockwork. Lily had to take her position and I was to remain hidden until I could close the door with cat inside. My God!!! This was like planning the invasion of Normandy, and taking entirely too much time.

One morning we got lucky and I was able to close the door on the black female. It's off to the vet we go, cat and food in carrier. "WHAT IS THE NAME OF YOUR CAT MA'AM?" Why it's "EBONY" of course. We called her Ebby. When we brought her home, she had a little bladder accident while sleeping on a foot stool. We decided to keep her in over night. Besides I could tell she was Lily's favorite. That is the only accident that has ever happened in our home by any of the feral cats.

We introduced her to the litter box in the downstairs laundry room. She didn't hesitate to use it. It occurred to me, that our lucky color was black. The black kitties seemed to have taken on the laid back personality of Freddy whom we guessed was the father. The black & white ones were tough and spooky like their Mama. We called them the Oreos. The task is getting harder with each remaining cat. We are only half way there with the easier half behind us. Meanwhile, the weeks are going by.

To be continued.

Copyright © Bill Franks
February 25, 2005