I have previously mentioned my stray cat problem… however… this is no more. I would like to dedicate this post to the Cats’ Protection League and thank them for all the wonderful work they do.
Our most persistent stray, Boris, has a place! We had adjusted our home routine to keep our girls safe and stress-free, locking the cat flap and night time, giving plenty of love and attention and lashings of Feliway…
I made so many ‘phone calls, it was heart rending. I never truly realised the extent of the stray problem here until I started this, as every other stray cat we’ve helped we’ve been able to re-home privately.
Boris made it through December in a nest of pillows in the porch and had a plate of catfood left out for him morning and night. My girls didn’t like it. Not one little bit. However, they adapted and an uneasy truce was declared.
Then I got the ‘phone call. A place was available in the local shelter – could I catch Boris and bring him in? I was delighted…Boris vanished, unwilling to discuss the terms of his Pexit… (Porch Exit…)
The next couple of nights were cold. There was a frost. With a heavy heart, the morning I was due to bring Boris in, I prepared to call the lovely lady to say that Boris had disappeared and the place would have to go to another cat. I opened the back door to let Charlie out and she hissed angrily. Boris was there!
He “meh”-ed quietly at me and looked hopeful. Quickly, I swept Charlie up and into the front room and emptied a sachet of catfood out for Boris. Now I faced a dilemma – he was accustomed to eating in the porch, having been chased indignantly out of the house by hissing, teeth clattering, paw stamping girl cats.
I placed the food on the doormat and retreated, waiting with bated breath. Boris approached, obviously very hungry, snatched a mouthful of food and went back outside. My heart sank. I was the only person in the house, apart from the cats, and it was beginning to seem that Boris was going to live up to his namesake and be … bumptious.
He came back inside. Had another mouthful of food – and stayed on the mat. I lunged forwards and gently pushed the kitchen door shut. Boris gave me a suspicious look and returned to his food. The cat carrier was waiting, sprinkled with treats and Feliway.
Boris finished his food. Inwardly bracing myself for raked wrists and bitten fingers, I carefully bent down, prepared for the struggle and – PICKED BORIS UP.
He went happily into the cat carrier, turned round, then curled up and went to sleep. Weak with relief, I rang the lovely lady at the shelter to let her know we were on our way.
While we were in the taxi, Boris didn’t fuss, or meow or fight to get out of the carrier. Is it anthropomorphic of me to say he was ready to go and knew I was helping? When we got there, the lady explained how well Boris would be looked after, medical checks, neutering, a warm bed, food…
I saw his little tabby and white face disappear around the corner with a pang, but I know he’ll be happy and safe and make someone a wonderful pet.
Bon voyage Boris and good luck. Time to come in out of the cold now.