Fatty follows me down the trail

 

Fatty loves me so much. After feeding her this morning I headed down the trail from my campsite to the road. Fatty followed me all the way down the trail EVERY step of the way. Periodically I would have to stop walking because Fatty was darting back and forth between my legs, rubbing against my ankles. And I was afraid I’d step on her. I’d stop for awhile and pet her. Then when I’d start walking again she’d lunge at my legs with her claws. Like she’s saying: “DON’T LEAVE ME!!”

I had to slide my feet on the ground like I was skating to keep from stepping on her. Which was a pain in the ass. It took me 10 minutes just to shuffle down the trail. But Fatty loves me. So I put up with it. And I sure don’t want to step on her…

FINALLY I made it down to the foot of the trail, right by the road. Now I was afraid Fatty was going to follow me as I crossed the street. She could get hit by a car (Fatty lives in the woods — she doesn’t understand cars and traffic).

So I shushed her away as I crossed the street.

As I walked down the road I looked back over my shoulder. And Fatty was sitting there in the woods looking at me with a forlorn look as I made my exit down the road. She’s already missing me 

Cats.

One of the problems with relating to ferat cats

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The thing that pisses me off about having to deal with the kittens: In 2014 I actually had ALL the feral cats at my campsite fixed. So I figured I wouldn’t have to be dealing with that anymore.

But NOOOO!!

Then one day these two completely feral cats — Owl and Feral Tammy — happened to be wandering through my campsite, noticed my cat food dish, and decided to stick around. Next thing I know, THEY popped out a litter of kittens and dumped them on my lap.

So here we go AGAIN!!

So then I managed to get ALL of those cats fixed. Except one, Scaredy Cat. But before I could get her fixed I was buffeted by a long series of other complications in my personal life that I had to deal with. And before I knew it I had even MORE litters of cats to deal with.

I swear, dealing with feral cats is like running on a treadmill. You have to keep running faster and faster just to keep from falling farther behind.

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Tis better to have petted and lost, than to have never petted at all

 

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Cats are a fairly complex creature.
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Scaredy Cat used to like to lie on my chest for long periods of time being petted. She was one of the most affectionate cats I’ve ever known.
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Then last month she got sprayed by a skunk and stunk to the high heavens.

So every time she tried to climb on my chest I’d go “UGGHH!! NO!!! GET OUT OF HERE!!”

Scaredy Cat would look at me with this hurt expression, like, “Whatever happened to our special love??” And slink off into the woods with her tail between her legs.

After about 3 weeks the skunk smell finally faded away. So I welcomed Scaredy Cat back to her rightful place on my chest. “C’mere you, you big fat cat!”

But Scaredy Cat would walk just within arm’s reach of me. And then when I’d reach out to pet her, she’d give me this haughty look.  Stick her nose in the air.  And turn and trot of into the woods. It was the classic spurned-lover move. “You can’t reject ME! I reject YOU!”

So this went on for about 3 weeks. Until this morning. When Scaredy Cat finally decided to lie back down on my chest. I guess she’s forgiven me.

Cats. Ha ha.

Fatty the feral cat

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Of all the feral cats at my campsite, Fatty is probably the least “feral.” She has none of the high-strung paranoia and aggressiveness that most of the other cats have. Her personality is incredibly sweet and easy-going. While the other cats all attack the cat food like sharks at a feeding frenzy the second I start putting it in the dishes. Fatty always stands back and patiently waits for an opening. I often have to make a special effort to make sure she gets her food and doesn’t get left out.

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Sunday night

 

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It’s 1:27 am on a Sunday night. And I’m hanging out downtown getting drunk.

Meanwhile. At this exact moment. All my feral cats are clustering around my campsite waiting for me to feed them.

And I have a lot of delicious food for them.

But they’re just gonna have to wait. I wanna finish my beer first before I head up to my campsite

So those feral cats don’t control me.

At least not completely.

 

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