Dear Mikey,
You came to me as a ragamuffin, a vagabond. You were found
wandering on the mean streets of a drug-infested ghetto neighborhood at
the tender age of five weeks. How in the world did you survive? I heard
you had a brother who looked just like you but despite our search and
rescue efforts, we couldn't find him. Only you. You were sleeping in a
cardboard box full of tangled Christmas lights and it was cold, (by
Florida standards), it was very cold. I stepped onto the property,
carefully avoiding the angry Chow-Chows in the very next yard, and called
"here kitty kitty�" You popped your little head up from that box and our
fates were sealed. I fell in love on the spot!
The guy who first found you said he would keep you. He
said he wanted a cat to raise with his little baby boy, then just a few
months old. But the boy's mother wouldn't allow cats in the house and you
were forced to live in a box of jumbled wires, competing with ants,
roaches and raccoons for the meager helpings of dry food they would put
out for you. Imagine, a malnourished, scrawny, flea-infested five-week-old
kitten with a bowl of cold, dry kibble. I don't know how you survived, but
Mikey, you did!
When I brought you home I fed you warm kitten replacement
milk and mixed it with smelly, wet cat food. But you wanted the pasta we
had for dinner that night, and that little idiosyncrasy, to eat things
that cats normally turn their wet little noses up at, earned you the name
Mikey. "He likes it! Hey Mikey!"
You were so tiny but you were also very feisty. You played
"prey games" with my hands, a game I found adorable when you were but a
little sprout, but not so funny now that you weigh twenty pounds! Your
coat is the color of orange marmalade, and your tiger stripes are just
perfect, Mikey, with perfect little rings on your tail and those big, bold
stripes across your back. You have a tummy the color of wheat, and so
soft, a big fat, soft belly that you sometimes allow me to mush my face
into and gently blow little raspberries. And you can do something with
your tail that I have never seen any cat do before! You can hold your tail
perfectly horizontally resting on your back! When I was a kid we used to
see kids who could "dislocate" their thumb and we called them
"double-jointed." That's what you have, Mikey, a double-jointed tail!
You are never mean to the "rescue" cats who come and go
through our doors, you welcome them all with open paws and keep them
company and make them feel secure. You are truly a therapy cat to the
little fosters who come here as waifs but leave here with loving families.
You could be a little nicer to your little sister Maggie, a Siamese cat
who came as a foster and never left, but I know that Maggie-The Meezer-Girl-Cat
usually starts the teasing and you try your best to ignore her but you
are, after all, only a cat and not a saint!
But Mikey, I sometimes feel very sad when I see you
sitting on the table staring out the window at the birds and squirrels and
occasional mouse who frequents our feeders. You cry and cry at the door
asking to be let out and sometimes you are too quick for me and slip out
the door and I have to chase you around the yard until you are safely back
inside. I wonder what you are thinking. Could you be thinking that you
would trade this secure, loving home with three squares a day, a clean
litter box and all the kitty treats your belly can hold for a life of
freedom? If I could ask you, what would you say? I give you unrestricted
access to the screen porch so you can soak up the sun and the fresh air,
and you seem to really enjoy those moments until the Florida heat drives
you back into the air conditioning and your cool, tile floor.
You don't know what's out there Mikey! As a Humane
Educator in the public schools, every week I hear some kid say how they
lost their cat to a neighborhood dog, a fast moving car, rat poison, a
dish of antifreeze placed carefully well within reach by some cat-hating
monster, a disease, a raccoon, a this or a that.... I would not let our
dog wander the streets (as much as you beg me to do so), and I dutifully
and lovingly protect you too! Did you know that studies show that the
average lifespan of a free-roaming cat is only 2-3 years? Or that cats who
are indoor/outdoor may live 5-8 years but that cats who are kept indoors
only can live for 15-20+ years? It's true! Your predecessor, a stray
Siamese cat I adopted from a shelter in Germany lived to be twenty-two
years old! The dangers of cars and cruel kids are not the only things to
worry about either. Outdoor cats can catch lots of diseases such as rabies
and feline leukemia and feline immunodeficiency virus, internal parasites
such as hookworms and whipworms and ear mites and external parasites such
as fleas and ticks which can bring on anemia and rashes. And here in the
tropics, we have those toxic black skinks and those tiny little dime-sized
frogs, the kind that your brother Patrick found on the screened porch and
ate and had to spend three days in the emergency room!
But it's not only you I am protecting, Mikey, it's the
other animals too.
Mikey, the birds who come to my feeder are so beautiful
and they sing so sweetly. Their colors are brilliant and their families
are intact and year after year they build nests and raise their young and
fly free into the air. As much as I hate to think of you as a cold-blooded
killer, the truth is that you could be a very real threat to those little
critters, Mikey. I know because I find lizard tails (and unhappy lizards
without tails) on my screen porch. Other animals, too, Mikey, are safer
because you live indoors. Stray and free-roaming cats kill millions of
small wild animals every year. They don't do this because they are hungry
or have a bad character, Mikey, they do it because they have an instinct
to hunt small prey. Some of these animals are little mice and baby
squirrels and baby snakes or lizards, but a full quarter of them are the
beautiful little song birds who visit feeders, like the one in our
backyard.
There are some who say that I am frustrating a cat's
nature when I keep him indoors. He has a right to be outside, they say.
But I think sometimes responsibilities trump rights, and the little
animals and birds who make their homes outside have rights too. And Mikey,
the truth is that it would be much easier on me if I let you outside. Of
the three cats in our household, you are the one who sheds the most. You
are also the one who throws the litter all around when you use the litter
box making a terrible mess. But sometimes it's not about easy, Mikey, it's
about love.
Oh, and sorry about that little neuter thing, but it
really was for the best.
Note to Readers: The Humane Society of the United States (www.hsus.org)
has a "Keep Cats Indoors" campaign that has brochures and statistics and
all kinds of information on educating cat guardians on keeping cats
indoors. Giving your cat plenty of toys and your time to play catch and
fetch games will keep him happy and healthy. Consider getting another
feline friend for your cat, or growing an indoor grass garden to satisfy
their need for greens.
Go on to The Betrayal of
Animal Protection: The Corruption of the USDA
Return to 6 February 2005 Issue
Return to Newsletters
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