When Mama and the first litter of kittens showed up under my doorstep, I wanted them to be friendly. Now with seven adult cats and a crap-load of kittens hanging around underfoot, I often just wanted to scream. This wasn't what I'd had in mind at all.
Minnie and her kittens weren't the problem. I was wild about them. When Minnie went off on hunts, I was sneaking the beautiful babies into the house. I had become the pet of six felines. Since Minnie and her kittens owned a human, they could no longer be classified as feral.
Vick had a foot in each world. She liked me but was terrified of anyone else. She had her kittens and hid them until they were old enough to travel. Vick was and is a really nice cat, for a wild woman. I don't understand why she had such an obnoxious bunch of kittens but I suspect she brought them to me because she couldn't take them any more. The little monsters started off wary of humans, but it was too good to last. They attached themselves to me like barnacles. They followed me. They climbed up my legs. The little blue and white one had an "endearing" habit of jumping on my back. This was easier to take when he was small. An adult cat springing onto your back can be annoying at times.
Blue's kittens acted like Blue. They watched and studied the human for a while, just like their mother had done. But Blue had rotten luck keeping kittens. Within six months, only one would remain. And that little terror would be a force to be reckoned with.
I got a lucky break. One of Vick's orange babies, the palest one, was truly driving me insane. He was so pushy and needy, he was on the verge of getting himself throttled. By me. An acquaintance wanted a kitten so I captured the pesky kitten and locked him on the porch. When human and pesky kitten were introduced, it was a match made in heaven. Pesky kitten went to a good home. And then my luck ran out.
Word must have spread like wildfire through the feline freeloading community. The next time someone came over to get a kitten, every single cat mysteriously disappeared. As soon as the people left, the cats came back. It suddenly occurred to me that I had a little problem. It is very difficult to introduce your invisible friends to anyone. The cats tolerated and tortured me. But nobody else was going to get near them. Another thing I soon discovered is nobody wants to mess with a feral cat. Everybody wants their kitties all nice and tame. And even if I could have found homes for these kittens, the adult ferals would continue to reproduce and bring me more.
Maybe Blue's black kittens had crossed my path too often. In July, I got bitten by a tick and contracted lyme disease. That same July, I noticed that Mama and Vick were pregnant. I don't know which bothered me more, the lyme disease or the thought of more kittens. Something had to be done. Fast.
I began scouting around for information and advice. Several people told me they had the same problem with ferals and finally solved it by bringing someone in to shoot the cats. I couldn't do this to creatures I had named and fed. Every organization I called told me to call somebody else. I left messages with this one and that one and never received a call back. Finally one woman told me she had saved a few of her favorites and brought them one at a time to clinics to be spayed and neutered. The rest were shot.
Shooting was out. Clinics were only held at certain times. By the time I found one, I could have a hundred more cats. I checked out pricing at regular vets. Leaving a few of the males out, that was physicals plus surgery for sixteen cats. It was impossible. I couldn't afford it.
Sixteen cats. One at a time. Each one would have to be confined for two weeks after surgery. I couldn't even catch some of them. It seemed so overwhelming. I began to understand why some people got desperate enough to shoot feral cats.
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