Help! I Have Barn Cats!
My irresponsible nephew has an irresponsible mother-in-law. She moved in with him and his wife, bringing her un-spayed female cat with her. My nephew’s unneutered male cat is now the father of two litters of kittens.
After work today, I’m stuffing my nephew’s cat into a carrier and taking him to the vet for the big Snip Snip. There will be no more kittens on my watch.
The first litter of kittens now live in my garage. Technically, they’re barn cats, but I’m not sure any of them have wandered as far as the goat barn on their own, although they do like to follow me out there in the mornings when I feed the goats and chickens. We also have a big Quonset hut that’s loaded with giant round bales of hay. The cat who came with our property — I’ve named her Mamacat because she had kittens when we first moved in—likes to hang out on top of the hay. She hasn’t yet taught the barn cats to do so.
We found homes for Mamacat’s kittens. For a while, she was so lonely that all she did was meow. Now she’s quieter, thanks to the barn cats. I can’t say she loves them, but they certainly keep her from being bored and lonely. One of them has taken to following Mamacat around.
There are four barn cats, two males and two females. They’re all varying patterns of tabby and white. Four barn cats plus a Mamacat means I’ll be getting cats fixed out of the next five paychecks.
The main problem with having barn cats is that I love them so much. I can’t bring them inside — I have too many cats in too small of a space already. Obviously, they have lots of food and clean water, warm places to sleep and plenty of love. But I would love to let them all sleep on my bed.
My indoor cats say no. My brother-in-law, who owns the house I live in, says no. The part of me that has to clean the litter box everyday and that occasionally wonders why I have so many cats says no.
When I go outside to feed them, they swarm around my feet. Then, after I pour the food into their bowls, they crowd around and eat. After a minute or so, one of them will break away from breakfast to come rub up against me and ask for pets and cuddles. After that one goes back to the food, another will come for love. Eventually, all four will swarm my feet. One of the males, Fievel, will reach up for me. If I lean down, he’ll put a paw on each side of my face and pull me down so he can rub his face against mine. If I’m not careful, he’ll jump onto my head and begin kneading my hair.
I’ve posted them on Facebook and tried to find homes, but they’re probably too old. They’re half grown. I’ve had a few people interested, but no one has followed through. I think I’m stuck with the cats, which is good for me, but bad for them. They deserve to be house cats. They’re sweet and oh-so-cuddly.
And this is why I literally get angry when people don’t spay or neuter their pets. Those of us who love cats already have too many. That leaves all these other babies to have to live on farms — at best — or the streets, at worst. The shelters are bursting at the seams with cats and kittens. The best I can do for these sweet barn kitties is to make sure they are never hungry or cold.
