Thursday, March 17, 2011


We released ten of the twelve cats back to the barn yesterday. Transported in the live traps and covered with old sheets, they fit neatly into old Eugene (the van).  With two that died on the street in February, one (female) that got away, that makes fifteen cats at that barn not counting Jefferson and his sibling, who the owners claim were not part of his barn colony based on color.

Of the ten, six were female.  That fits well with the current math unit of how many baby kittens would have been born this summer had we not spayed them?  (We're multiplying by six.) 18? 24? 30?  Make it 24.  And then assuming 50% of those are female, the following year you'd have 12 new females plus the original six females for 18 females times another four kittens per cat which comes up to 72 new kittens.  Adding the original 12 + 24 the first summer and 72 the next, you find the barn will have 108 cats by the second summer.  Now, of course they don't all live:  many run off, die of starvation, killed by the large tom, die of the respiratory disease they all have.   Not a great life, is it?  And of course, this count doesn't include the two newly trapped cats in my garage awaiting their operation tomorrow, and given their size and color, they are likely female.  And of course, there is still that tortie out there - a proven breeder.

William was very helpful, carrying the traps both empty and full, but he declined to come help me feed the cats and show the owners how to medicate cats this morning:  the canned food, used to hide the medicine, makes him gag!

Getting to know the neighbor through this project was a bonus.  Where I live, we often wave to neighbors, but given the lack of density and wide age variation, it is often hard to connect.  I stood and talked to the man and his wife for an hour this morning, the first real conversation though we've lived two doors down for thirteen years.

Notes:  SUN!!!
Every day, I feel so tired I day dream of taking naps.  Recently, I started taking 2000 iu of Vitamin D, approved by a doctor, and it has made a tremendous difference.  So would a trip to the Virgin Islands.

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