Frankly Ferals

I thought I had gotten them all. 

  
How could there be room for more? Clearly now a rhetorical question. 

A tree fell down by the front gate a few years ago. It’s not bothering anything, so I’m letting it stay as it is and return to the earth. 

Mr. RedAndWhite decided to live there like a fairytale creature. 

   
    
 This year no cats climbed over the fence to live here at the Swamped! Plantation and Neutering Service. Because they have decided to live outside the fence. 

I’ve had my eye on this red fellow for some months. I wanted to trap him, but a crazy woman in Savannah kept my trap. 

Sometimes in the night I would hear cat screams. But who could be fighting? Everyone was accounted for. 

Sugar had a trap that I could borrow. Plus a lady offered the use of one of hers, which evened the odds because Mr. GrayAndWhite showed up. 

  
I set both traps one night, and after releasing probably six of my cats who thought they were scoring a tasty treat, I had success. 

   
    
 I caught Mr. GrayAndWhite. Mr. RedAndWhite was too clever. 

Mr. GrayAndWhite had a nasty puncture wound at the inside corner of his left eye that went into his sinuses. The debate was made to neuter or euthanize. Life won, and he was altered, vaccinated, and injected with a long-acting antibiotic. 

When I released him back at the front gate, he headed along the log highway, where he was met by the toll master. 

   
    

Looking back and unable to pay the toll

   
I began to believe that the last cat would continue to outwit me. 

Then the stars and the planets moved into the proper alignment, aided by the pull of the supermoon, and me standing on my head spitting wooden nickels. 

   
   
The absence of male hormones will perhaps take the fighting down a notch. 

I plan to sleep well tonight. 

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5 Responses to “Frankly Ferals”

  1. Luanne @ TFK Says:

    Bless you for taking care of the cats. I love cats.

    Liked by 1 person

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