Wool and Spice

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been feeding a stray cat for about 18 months. Teddy first showed up in the middle of winter, skinny and starving. Completely feral, no matter how hungry he was, I couldn’t approach him. In the past, I’ve chased away stray cats, fearful of disease spreading to our two house cats. But I was a sucker for a coal-black cat living outside in 10-degrees-below-zero temperatures. He became an adjunct to our household.

There’s been an adjustment period while the cats sorted out the pecking order. Teddy considers Cleo his harem (she’s spayed); she’s not convinced but there is a reluctant attraction.

Gus (neutered) didn’t roll over so easily and put up a brave effort to maintain dominance. After a few scrapes in which it was clear he didn’t have the cajones that Teddy does, he’s accepted his second-hand status with much resentment. Now, they each mostly pretend the other doesn’t exist.

There are boundaries. Teddy is only welcomed on one deck which I re-enforce by feeding him there.  I figure our cats have the right to parts of the outdoors where they don’t have to deal with his presence.

All three cats keep their triangulated distance but in the summer they’ll sleepily share an afternoon on a warm deck. The house cats keep one eye open to make sure Teddy doesn’t make an unexpected move while his eye is on the lookout for humans.

This summer I’ve noticed he’s a little less cautious around me. I can now put his food bowls down within two feet before he’ll back off. There’s hissing involved but no move to attack.  I respect the damage his claws and teeth could do so I wouldn’t dream of trying to touch him.

Overall Teddy’s made himself as much at home as I expect he’ll ever be.

So that’s where it stood until this week. Teddy has been looking a little ragged around the edges. His formerly sleek fur is matted in spots and he has constant drainage from his eyes, a sign that something isn’t right. He needs checking by a vet.

Last summer I tried trapping him without any success. I was timid and afraid to let him go hungry.  This time, realizing that life doesn’t always have a happy ending, I’ve decided to be more aggressive. So a humane trap was purchased, assembled and added to the feeding area on the deck.

For now, the door is braced open and food is placed partially inside. Every day this week I’ll move it further into the cage. Teddy can eat it and then leave the cage. But that’s the only food he’ll get.

I started this morning by placing a small amount of dry food outside the cage and his favorite wet food far enough inside that he would have to put his front paws in the cage to eat it. The dry food got gobbled up, he sniffed the wet food and came to sit by the kitchen door waiting for me to make things right.

There was a 2-hour battle of wills. He flopped on the deck, feigning sleep. He rubbed against the door. He went back and checked the empty dry food bowl. He peered in the cage. He curled up in a ball, with the tip of his tail beating time on the deck. He watched me through the door to see if I was coming to feed him.

He waited.

It was a draw. He left without eating the food, but I didn’t cave like last year.

Tonight there won’t be any dry food until he eats the wet food. The same thing tomorrow, only the wet food will be further inside the cage. By next week I hope  we’ve made enough progress so that he’ll go all the way into the cage to eat, at which point I’ll remove the door brace.

Success this time depends upon me keeping my big girl panties hitched up.

Stay tuned for the battle.

(The quality of all the pictures is off because they were taken through the kitchen door; a camera makes Teddy disappear quicker than a dollar bill in a yarn shop.)

Tags: stray cats, teddy, trapping