cat collecting

There is a most attractive long-legged tortoiseshell with lime green eyes who comes out and greets people leaving the gym at the row of shops near my place.  I suspect she's looking for food.  People say she's a stray but I'm not convinced, as she looks well: she's thin but her coat's good if a little smudgy in parts.  I think she might be from the flats nearby, maybe from a family who just aren't savvy about the whole domestic pet thing.  She definitely looks and acts as tho she's been domesticated at some point in time.

I bet you know what's coming next.  She's such a friendly, nice-looking cat, I'm tempted to pick her up next time I see her and take her home with me.  Sure, all pandemonium would break out as territories would have to be adjusted, decisions would have to be made about which bed/couch would shared with a newcomer.

Then there's that other question -- when does one cross the line from being cat owner to cat collector?  I've already got three cats...

<the said cat, in a phone photo not representing her full splendor> 

Thought: since am now single, beyond-the-pale-forty-something woman, could become mad animal rescuer.  After all, there was the puppy last year...

And Leonard himself began as a stray, courting our household for eighteen months before he was finally allowed insided after his ear got ripped off in a fight, which meant I had to take him to the vet to have it sewn back on (and therefore, his goolies cord-thing chopped).

<Leonard as a feral, on the wrong side of the screen door>

Otty was an orphan we decided to rescue at the eleventh hour before moving from our previous abode.  We lived next door to a mad man, who had a tribe of large fluffy cats he let breed and run wild, never bothering to socialise them.  There must have been at least ten generations there.  Otty's mother Gremlin would bring him over to eat at our house, because there probably wasn't much chance of getting his nose into a feed bowl over there (she was so small she had a one-cat litter).  When we moved to our new place, we decided we'd nick him when we went to clean back the house. We did, and the terrible thing was that later we saw Gremlin looking through the windows, obviously wondering where he'd gone.  The madman also saw me at a house inspection and made mutterings about 'the black kitten', but I feigned innocence.   Later I heard he went off to live with the cats in an old church in the country.

<Gremlin bringing Otty to feed at our place>

Otty is a shy, nervous creature, with eyes only for me.  Other people complain about his lack of social skills, tho they make excuses for others' social timidity. He'll only ever sit beside me, never on me. He still does feral things, like burying his dish after he's eaten if I feed him outside or digging a shallow hole for himself and sleeping in it overnight. 

<Otty & his mother with Griffin, outside our kitchen window>

So I don't know, another cat....she only looks young.  She could take on the family mantle, except that my mother says my current cats will never die because they know they're on a good wicket.   People could talk about me, the mad woman with ten generations of cats, living in my flat.  Even worse, I could become like the Dessicated Parrot Woman, who goes for a daily shuffle round the units here, with a mangy cockatoo on her hand.  Afterwards, she sits on her balcony for while, talking to repulsive bird.

I suspect I won't really pick up another cat...

Comments

[Francsi Xavier Holden]

I suspect you will

[susoz]

Don't. If that cat is basically okay, it doesn't need you. Wait till you meet one who really does.

[elsewhere]

Ha, very funny both of you.

You think I should wait for an even more needy cat, S? You should see the cats I have already.

I think I will take a moderate position and ask my friend, the Extreme Exercising Vet, what to do about stray but personable cat.

[Pavlov's Cat]

Oh go on, you know you want to. And it is a beautiful cat.

We're all dead a bloody long time, El.

[tigtog]

My cat would eviscerate any other cat I brought home now, although she coped well enough with the senior cats when they were still alive. I have however lived with people who had well socialised tribes of cats. They were nice homes. So I dunno. She looks sweet though.

[elsewhere]

PC -- the upshot being I should fill in the here and now with as many cats as possible?

[Pavlov's Cat]

Well, you know, as many ANYTHINGS as possible. I refer you to Zoe's meme answer to one's motto in life: 'Oh f*ck it, why not.'

[Laura]

I love it when cats flop on the footpath at your feet like that.

[Pavlov's Cat]

Having made my previous comments, I am now, as we speak, listening to that harsh, rhythmic hacking noise (coming from the other room -- the carpeted other room) that all cat owners learn to dread. I've not sure I could cope with it and its results X4 myself. X2 is quite bad enough, especially at this time of year when they're shedding.

[Zoe]

Well, I did say my attitude can cause problems on occasion. But I'm with the enablers on this one.

[Francsi Xavier Holden]

Enablers? Enablers? bloody urgers I say

[elsewhere]

PC -- my fears are more to do with another pissing war breaking out on upholstery, etc.

I went past Diorama Village (as these illustrious shops are called) yesterday morning to buy some milk (truly) and did not see the cat anywhere. On reflection, I only see it in the evenings and wonder if it's from the flats nearby and is waiting for its owner to feed it. I also wonder if it might be an Abl family's pet (due to it's, er, less than first world condition) tho they tend not to keep cats. Or if it had an owner who's moved away and it comes out at dinner time in hope that someone else will feed it.

Lots of wondering. I think I will ask EEV at dinner this week what she advises in case of apparently ownerless animals that look like they need a good home.

The other solution might be to capture it and give it to Sandy at Christmas to go with her other tortoiseshell cat.

[sandy webster]

I've just spent half an hour cleaning up my mangy old tortoiseshell's 'secret' toilet, which consisted of shitting in a corner of my neighbour's verandah for weeks on end. The stench was remarkable. Hence, I am un-cat-loving of present. But the good thing is, E, you have a garden, which means your cats don't suffer toileting anxiety and you don't have to suffer toileting revulsion.