I'm a street cat: don't rescue me to be a house cat

We, the street cats of the world, don't want to be tamed. We don't want to be put in a pen and forced to adapt to human society. We don't want to be made into house cats.

Yet some cat "rescuers" are trying to do just that. They think it's the right thing to do.

Or, if they don't try to tame us, they confine us to some kind of enclosure where we are fed regularly but we don't have the kind of freedom we used to have.

Being a street cat is a rich and varied life. If we are lucky we get fed by passersby, and there are always thrown out take-away wrappings, often with food in them. We can forage and hunt. We can lie in the sun. We can burglarise food left out for house cats.

All that is lost if we are stuck in a cat pen or confined to an enclosure - a so called "sanctuary." Only it can be more like a prison. Are two meals a day worth the loss of freedom? 

So please don't. Trap us and neuter us. We will be healthier without fighting and kitten bearing. Then let us go back to the streets where we live.

Oh, and appoint a regular feeder. Freedom and food. That's what we want.

P.S. Go to International Cat Care Cat Friendly Homing.

So many are homeless

 

There are so many homeless cats. One estimate says that one in every two cats living in the world do not have a human home. Even in the UK about five percent of cats are homeless.

Of course some of them live reasonable lives as farm cats, working cats or cats that have a regular feeder. These are the lucky ones.

Others have lost their homes and have to learn to live on their wits. Some are just abandoned when their owners move house. Others leave home if the home is unsuitable or frightening.

They may be able to live out of refuse bins, restaurant waste, thrown-away take away food, or break into human houses with a cat flap and steal another cat's food.

Purrlease spare a little money for your local cat rescue. There are a lot of homeless cats around at the moment and not enough money for the rescuers.

Cat deprivation in humans: the symptoms

 

Dr Roxy on her therapy couch treats a patient

 

A new syndrome in humans has been discovered - cat deprivation syndrome. Do you know a human who is suffering? Here is an outline of the symptoms.

• Intense loneliness. This emotion is felt despite socialisation between humans. In households with partners and children, it is still the primary symptom. In lone-human households, it can become seriously overwhelming.
• Purr deprivation during the night. The human frequently wakes and misses the purr. This leads to prolonged sleeplessness due to what we cats call "unnnatural night silence." More room on the bed does not compensate for purr absence.
  
• The breakfast gap. This occurs when the human staggers downstairs to put down cat food. Realises there is no cat. Has to fill the gap by making her own coffee first. Schedule disruption produces inner uneasiness.
• Empty-house ideation. The human's mind is full of images of an empty house. Empty armchairs. Empty beds. Empty windowsills
  
• Missing rituals -  such as the litter skitter, the move-over-you-are-on-my-chair, the belly flop, where-ie-my-dinner, the greeting-you scratch on mat, don't-interrupt-my-grooming-sequence. 
• Improverished cleaning rituals. Where has the hair gone? Paradoxical feelings of dismay rather than relief.

I could go on, but these are the main symptoms. If not promptly addressed, they can lead to severe mental psychosis.

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My scratch-post is too small

This is how I like to scratch most of the time -- standing at full length and pulling my spine upwards with my claws before a good downward stroke.. A lovely pilates stretch as well as an important way to leave a scent mark.

What do humans do?

They give us a tiny scratching post that wobbles. We can't get a proper stretch on it. We can't get a strong downward stroke with the claws. It's rubbish.

So what do we do?

We use the furniture, stupid. What else. Sometimes there's a door in soft wood to scratch on, but  usually it has to be the sofa or an armchair. At the back it is high enough to get a good stretch and a firm downward stroke. L-o-v-e-l-y.

Then our humans have the cheek to object.

Why lions can't purr but we can.

 

Lions can't purr.

They can roar because they are big animals with no real enemies except humans. They can make all the noise they like - to see off rivals or attract a mate - without having to worry that a bigger animal will hear them and hunt them.

But they can't purr. 

So we are superior to lions in purring.

We can purr like a contented universe humming to itself. It's a long low sound that mother cats and kittens make together in the safety of the nest, knowing that quiet hum won't arouse any predators. It's the sound of safety, of happiness, and of love in that blissful nest.

Why can't lions purr? It's a bit of a mystery. It's not just size. Cheetahs can purr, for example: so can snow leopards.

It used to be thought this was something to do with small hyoid bone in the throat and whether it was rigid enough to make a roar but too rigid for a purr. Now scientists have started to argue against this, saying it might be something to do with the folds of the vocal tract.

Purrng is still a wonderful mystery. 

We purr without pausing for breath because we purr continuously on the in-breath and on the out-breath. Not many animals can do this. 

Humans can't purr. We are their superior in purring.