Stray cat testicles – everybody’s problem, but whose responsibility?
I’m not sure how it happened, but somehow I have become the person people call for cat advice.
At one point I even did some cat wrangling for the local police.
I’m a dog person and I’m not even sure my cat likes me.
But I guess I have the required experience: I have been catching stray kittens and various critters since I was a small child. I’m sure my parents were stoked every time I’d turn up with a new “pet”.
Got a stray cat on your property? Turns out it’s up to you to deal with it.
There are, however, two kinds of cats. They look the same but act very differently.
Domestic or feral? That is the question.
If you can’t pick it up and cuddle it, it’s probably not someone’s pet.
When I did some work for the SPCA a while ago, someone brought in a cat that was “quiet”.
After it ran up my arm, and then the walls, it was pretty obvious that this cat, who I affectionately named Norman Bates, was no-one’s family pet.
For domestic and injured cat problems, you can visit the SPCA for help and advice.
Feral cats, as it turns out, are not really anyone’s section. Animal control doesn’t deal with cats, which I think is a little peculiar, as cats are in fact animals.
I think if we can deal to the big stinky tom cat with the big set of clangers, we will lower the amount of unwanted kittens, the number of vet visits and the risk of your cat getting nasty viruses from said big stinky tom cat with the big set of clangers.
Your only options are to accept the problem stray cat into your life, get it fixed and buy a big bag of Whiskas, or catch it and euthanise it.
I applaud the humans who do take responsibility for strays (using either method).
I found a home for my problem cat Patsy Stone. It’s quite a sad story, though.
As I’ve mentioned in previous columns, Patsy had a neurological condition called cerebellar hypoplasia. In cats, this condition is also called “wobbly cat syndrome”.
Recently, she went to live with three other wobbly cats it was a dream result.
But it was a short-lived dream.
Upon further investigation, it turns out Patsy also had a heart murmur and was having seizures. When she would go a bit looney and bite, she was actually having a seizure. Patsy wasn’t a psycho cat, she was actually epileptic, which explains the super jaw strength, I guess.
Her condition was going to deteriorate, but she was fortunate to not die alone in a graveyard, which is exactly what would have happened if the universe hadn’t put Patsy in my path that fateful night.
Sadly, Patsy is no more, but she did at least avoid the freezer.