More drama, action and adventures in the Land of the Feral Cats

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The kittens had been missing for the last 10 days. I don’t know why. Mom is holing them up in a secret nest somewhere. But the whole gang came barging into my campsite in the middle of the night last night. Meowing incessantly. They were HUNGRY!!

I wake up still half-drunk. My campsite is a total mess. My cardboard matting is wet from the rain and falling apart. My blankets are strewn haphazardly in the mud. And the raccoons have dragged my backpack down the hill (bastards!). Its pitch dark. But after frantically searching through 20 different bags I manage to find a can opener and a can of mackerel.

But the can opener is a piece of junk. It opens the can halfway and stops working. The kittens can smell the mackeral so they’re really going nuts now, jumping all over me and meowing so loudly I think they’re going to hyperventilate. Which doesn’t help matters. I’m trying to pry the can open with my hands. And its one of those weird real life dramas where NOTHING is more important at this particular moment in time and space than getting this damn can of mackeral open. If only to shut up the cats. The fate of the universe is hanging in the balance.

Finally, after several lifetimes, I manage to pry the can open with a razor. Plop the food in the dish. And the cats eat breakfast happily ever after.

And I plop back down on my blankets. Its a triumph of the human spirit, I tell ya.

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Return to Feralcat Land

Peter Labriola's photo.
Moo Cat, the feral cat, showed up last night at my campsite while I was sleeping. She was so happy to see me. I’ve been gone for the last 2 weeks while I was recovering from my eye surgery, so she had been faring for herself — which she can do. But I’m sure she was freaking out that the gravy train (literally) might be over. I cracked open a can of cat food, which she gobbled down. Then she hung out with me all night long, purring wildly. I had never heard a cat purr that loudly. She was making sounds I’d never heard a cat make before. Like she’d hit a rare 5th gear of cat purring. I was almost afraid she’d blow a gasket or something, she was getting so worked up.

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Peter Labriola's photo.
Moo Cat
Peter Labriola's photo.
Peter Labriola's photo.
Reminding me, yet again, that it’s breakfast time.
Peter Labriola's photo.
Happy cat. Kind of a hippie even. Damn tree-huggers.
Peter Labriola's photo.
“Hello dere, human.”
Peter Labriola's photo.
Moo Cat was feeling so exuberant in the morning she started scampering up and down the trees. All the feral cats in the Berkeley hills are expert tree-climbers. They start practicing their tree-climbing skills at the earliest age when they’re little kittens. They know the keys to the kingdom are in those trees. Birds, eggs, squirrels, etc.
Peter Labriola's photo.
When I started to leave my campsite, Moo Cat gave me a mournful look. Like: “You’ll be coming back, won’t you?”

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Breakfast in Feral Cat Land

 

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Moo Cat. In the middle of the action, as usual.

 

Cats

  • My feral cats are too much.  For years I’ve been feeding them a diet of pretty much 100% meat.  Cans of tuna.  Cans of chunk chicken.  Cans of ham.  Or leftover restaurant food like steak burritos, and baloney and cheese sandwiches, and shrimp tortellini in rich cheese sauces.   Human food.   My cats probably eat better than 90% of the humans on the planet, no exaggeration (“As well they should,” says my friend Richard Plop).

But the other day I was at Safeway and noticed a real good deal on cat food.  Big 22 ounce cans for $1.40.  So I bought a bunch and fed them to my cats. Or tried to.  My white feral cat Blondie took one whiff of that cat food and turned her nose up.  Wouldn’t eat it.   Then she proceeded to sit 5 feet away from me and stared at me non-stop for two hours. Its like she was saying: “Geeziz!  Whats up with this cat food shit.  Get up and get me some real food, dude!  Now!!”  I’d drift asleep in my sleeping bag for a half hour and wake up and there she was still staring at me.  It was like she was trying to hypnotize me into doing her bidding.  I guess it worked.  I got up and scrounged around in a few garbage cans until I found an untouched bacon and egg on english muffin sandwich.  Exactly what she loves to eat.  I trooped back to my campsight and dumped the food in her cat dish.  Blondie gave me a look like: “Harumph!! Well its about time, asshole!”  And proceeded to chow down.

Those cats are too much.

“Don’t forget, dude, tomorrow is National Feral Cat Day!”

 

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