Sorry. This has nothing to do with submarines. I am recounting my weekend adventures with two feral neighborhood cats which we trapped, got spayed & neutered (one of each), & put in my garage to recover. When we last looked in on them (yesterday), a day had passed since their operations, & they had somewhat settled into living in the garage.
Peachy was the most brave, sleeping on a dog bed we put on a table for that very purpose. He also seemed to be doing most of the eating. Bootsy hid where she cold, mainly in-between shelves behind a big box. I tried to put her food as close to her as possible, so she'd have a chance to eat.
They finally started to use the litter box, but didn't know how to cover their litter. Feral cats, man. Their parents don't teach them shit. Literally.
The neighbor (who trapped them & took us to the vet for the spaying/neutering) would visit & they were way more comfortable around him - they seemed to have forgiven him for, or forgotten that he was instrumental in, trapping them. He had been feeding them for months now, it made sense. The wife told me that Bootsy's eyes, as big & beautiful as they were, seemed mostly full of fear. I tried to make their stay as stress-free as possible.
But we couldn't keep them forever, & they would have been very hard work to tame, to integrate into a household. They were feral from day one. So I needed to plan to let them out. That's the whole purpose, of course, of trap, neuter, return (or catch, spay, release) programs.
One big obstacle was our neighbor. He & his wife already have maybe six cats, & couldn't adopt new ones, but I think he expected me to keep them as long as I could to possibly adopt them. He was mad, for example, that they clipped the ferals' ears, since he felt that might hinder future adoptions. He cautioned me to keep them a day longer. He was philosophical when I told him I planned to let them go on Monday. But he didn't try to guilt me any more than he had.
The truth is, I always intended to let them go. But I wanted to make sure they were well.
On Monday, I opened the garage door. It was loud & we were there, so the cats continued to hide. I lowered the garage door to cat-height, & the wife & I went for a walk with our dogs. When we got back, our feral guests were gone.
Something in me was sad & offended - I thought they might want to stick around. But most of me knew they were miserable in there. They had never really known shelter & confinement. It wasn't their way.
At some point today I saw Peachy wandering around. I haven't see Bootsy but the wife says she has. I think we've probably done as much for them as possible - the neighbor will continue to feed them. I hope they live long lives in their freedom. I feel like we've given them a chance of sorts.
But, yeah, I miss them. I go into the garage & it feels wrong. Every cat should have a place with some human, like my cat Bronte is sitting & purring next to me as I write this. It's a sadness that this is not the case.
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