One day I will die and be eaten by cats

I have a cat problem. I've never had anything against cats. I've always thought they were nice to look at. It's nice when they sit on you and purr and I can even put up with the way they dig their claws into you when you make them really happy...sadistic? Absolutely. But in a good way...or something. I'm a dog person myself. If I am going to put in the time and energy required to have a pet, I want one that isn't too proud to say "I love you." Or you know, show affection.

My mom likes cats. In the course of my life she has brought two of them home. Sadly they hate each other in a crazy I'm going to kill you kind of way. Much of my teenage years were spent keeping them apart so that Cali wouldn't fly off the handle in a spitting hissy fit. Jewel (she's the fat one I featured in this blog last week) actually seems pretty untroubled by Cali. Honestly, if Jewel wanted to kill Cali, she could. She's huge.

When we moved to our current house, our cats were pretty old and the health problems began to set in. It started with Jewel and her bladder infection of DOOM. I'll try to spare you the gory cat pee details, but let's just say cats avoid the litter box when they have bladder infections. Then Cali went blind. And then she lost a kidney. And I will once again try to spare you the cat pee details, but it 'aint pretty.

Amid the cat pee and the vows never to have another cat ever, a small feral cat walked into my life. Little Ziggy was small when I first saw her walking in our backyard. She looked hungry and cold and I thought, ah ha, I will give her some cream. Little Ziggy was soon joined by another small kitten, a boy named Neon Tiger. The two of them wandered my yard drinking cream and playing cute little games and I thought, maybe, I had been wrong to judge cats so harshly. And then came Tiny Dancer. A small kitten with a freckled nose. Who could turn him away?

As you can see from the photo, their mother soon came to join us. On a whim I bought them little cat dishes and toys. I fell hard for the kittens and in time the whole feral colony. And it didn't seem so bad at first to feed 4 cats. And then when Rusty came along, she seemed so sweet. And then Daddy. And then Whiteface. And then Rocky came from out of the blue, so sweet and small.

One evening, as my mom and I sat on the floor of our living room, watching our feral cats eat, listening to Cali upstairs doing her "pay attention to me now" wail, we realized that with 11 cats, we had in fact become crazy cat ladies.

Our vet has informed me that Jewel needs to get her weight down, and that Cali needs to keep her weight up. I prepare 4 different meals each night for the cats and their discerning palates and I trick Cali into eating 3 pills a day. My mother and I spend our days cleaning up litter and wondering how it came to this.

And then two nights ago a small all black kitten wandered into our yard and began to eat. This cat is not part of our colony, he looks nothing like our family of adopted cats. He is from a brand new feral colony and I bet he has friends. And I realized that I would one day die and be consumed by the feral colony I helped. So let this be a lesson and learn from my mistakes. Resist the big eyed look of the kitten, for kittens grow into cats with bladder problems and high blood pressure.

My mom has been on vacation all week and I have been taking care of our harem of cats, so I may be coming at this from a slightly biased perspective. Spay and neuter your cats.

That's all from me.

(Oh and P.S. We spayed and neutered all those ferals. Just so you know I practice what I preach.)