Guest post by Melissa.
“Six cats is enough!” we cry. “No, six cats is too many!”
And yet, we keep on finding more. Or rather, I should say, they keep finding us.
The latest to enter the Peyton Place that is the story of our cats is little Timmy. I first noticed him crossing the yard not long after I had moved to Santa Cruz, and I remarked that he was a fine young cat, handsome, sleek, with a grand fluffy tail, and quite full of himself.
This was not good news for Mortimer, who lives next door and is terrorized by his evil sister. Mortimer, also sometimes known as Scaredy Cat or Puff, is very shy, and easily frightened. It had taken Chris weeks to entice him over to eat cat treats, and even longer to eat them with her in the vicinity. (I should point out here that I rent the cottage behind Chris and Peter’s house.) Now along comes Timmy, and Mortimer is back to hiding.
Except now Timmy is hiding too. He seems to have taken up residence under the back porch, where he peers up through the slats, waiting for Chris to put out Mortimer’s treats. As soon as she does, out leaps Timmy, and away runs Mortimer. And Timmy doesn’t seem so sleek any more; he looks thin, and a bit bedraggled, and much more nervous.
“I think Timmy is a stray,” I said.
“Don’t say that!” exclaimed Chris, knowing that as certified crazy cat ladies, she, Sarah-Hope and I would have to do something about it.
So now we are. I’ve been putting out a bowl of food way in the back yard, hoping to lure Timmy away from the porch, Mortimer, and the treats, and am trying to spend time sitting outside so he gets used to me. The plan is to earn his trust, and then catch him in a cage (oops, so much for trust) and take him to our vet. If he is disease-free, they will find a good home for him.
But Timmy is awfully cute.
Seven cats? No, that’s way too many.