While this is very sad, unfortunately there is possibly a cat in this situation in most streets. It reminds me of:-
Not very far away from you - in fact, just around the corner, a little black cat sits crouched beneath a bush; taking what shelter he can from the rain. You’ve probably seen him if you’ve walked by that way. You may have seen him sitting on a windowsill, even stopped to stroke him and say hello when he’s been sitting on a wall in the sunshine. He never wanders very far, for there’s a house in this road that he used to call home. Several months ago, when the weather was much more agreeable to a young cat and there were lots of things to chase and play with and the sun was warm on his back, the little black cat yawned and stretched and sauntered home for his tea, only to find there was nobody there. The house was very quiet and still. The little black cat sniffed the air - no food smells of any kind. He waited patiently by the back door. Only as darkness fell did he begin to cry, hoping somebody would hear his pleas and let him in, willing the light to come on and his owner to appear, tin of cat food in hand. Unknown to the little black cat, his owners had gone for good. Moved away, leaving him behind. Nights turned into days, days to weeks, and still the little cat lived in hope that soon someone would come home and let him in. He moved from garden to garden, bin bag to bin bag in search of food, finding a shed with a broken window in which he could shelter for a while, but never going too far. They might come back tomorrow.
Two roads down from yours lives a very different cat indeed. This cat is a tortoiseshell and she is pregnant. She was only born this January herself, and although hardly out of kitten hood is about to become a mum. She used to have a home, too. She was bought as a present for the children, but she’d only lived there a few weeks when they got that PlayStation thing. They didn’t want to play with her anymore and she seemed to always be in trouble with the grown-ups. Now she is on her own, cold, tired and very, very hungry. She is searching for a place secure enough and snug enough to give birth to her kittens. She knows that wherever she chooses it must be within reach of the lady’s house who puts a saucer of milk out each day. She is more than a little frightened, not only of the birth, but also of the future. What dangers will she have to face? How will she feed her babies when she can hardly feed herself? What will become of her babies? Will any of them ever have a home? Across the road from the tortie lives Dad. He’s a large tabby Tom with attitude. This is his patch and everybody knows it. He used to be very popular with the ladies with his sleek coat and rippling muscles. These days he resembles a moth-eaten bag of bones. He’s rather smelly, but that doesn’t bother him. His ears are torn and tatty and he has several scars on his face and an eye that’s permanently half-shut, but that’s ok it gives him street-cred, shows he’s not to be messed with, doesn’t it? He’s held this patch for a long time now and he doesn’t want to lose it. He knows where all the best bins are, and which cat-flaps he can sneak through at night where he might find some leftover food before the resident cat chases him out. He usually has time for a quick spray before he leaves.
The people round here don’t like him and tend to shout and throw things when they see him, so he has learnt to keep out of their way. Lately though, life seems harder than usual. His skin itches, his ears hurt, his bones ache, and there’s this sore that he got when fighting the ginger from the next street a couple of weeks ago. It just won’t heal up no matter how much he licks it. It seems to smell now, too. He doesn’t like the nights much anymore. He might have to defend his territory, and he feels so tired. One day soon now, he’s going to lose.
Were you aware of the old lady that was rushed off to hospital six months ago, who lived in the road that backs onto yours? She never returned. There was no one left to mourn her except for Poppy - her 13-year-old black and white cat. The Council came along and boarded up the house. At least Poppy had lived there long enough to know the kindly neighbours a few doors away who provided a rough shelter for her in their garden and put out a bowl of food each day, but who unfortunately couldn’t take her in because of the old man’s emphysema. He isn’t allowed pets of any kind. Although Poppy is quite lucky to have kind people to feed her each day, she misses her mum and her home. She misses curling up to sleep on her bed each night, or sitting on her mum’s lap in the evenings, snug and warm, purring as her mum strokes her. Poppy isn’t feeling very well, although she eats all her food she’s still so very hungry. Each day her hunger increases, and she needs to relieve herself more often, too. As her weight falls off she begins to feel her heart pounding in her chest. It races so fast she finds it hard to relax. Poppy knows all is not as it should be, but all she can do is eat as much as she can and take each day as it comes.
There can’t possibly be any more strays near you that you don’t already know about, can there? Well, you wouldn’t know yet about the two brothers who were dumped in your road in the early hours of the morning, unwanted now there’s a new baby in the house. No one has seen them yet. They’re still in shock, huddled together where they can’t be seen, so very scared and confused, terrified to venture out into this unknown world. You see, they’ve never been outside before. Their home was on the seventh floor of a block of flats. The little black cat, the pregnant tortoiseshell, Dad and Poppy have all come to the attention of concerned people who called the Cats Protection (the brothers are yet to be discovered).
Unfortunately the Group doesn’t have all the help it needs to come to the aid of every cat reported quickly, but the volunteers do their best and help as many as they can as soon as they can. Foster spaces are always in short supply and a cat may have a long wait for one to become available. The little black cat, for instance, is on the waiting list for a space, but he is healthy and young, and not as immediately in need as the pregnant tortoiseshell. She needs a space as soon as possible. Hopefully one will be found for her before she gives birth. Dad will not come in to be fostered, but he will be taken to the vets. As he is not a friendly cat he will need to be caught in one of the special cat traps used for these situations. Poor old Dad will have to wait a while, as there are less volunteers to do trapping then anything else, and those that do are stretched to their limits - trying to cope with their ever-increasing list of ferals, sick, long-term strays, nervous cats and garden-born kittens that cannot be just picked up and popped into a normal cat carrier. Poppy is already on the waiting list for a foster space, but wasn’t a priority when first reported, as she was being well fed and the caller failed to mention her condition. However, when the caller rang again to see if Poppy would be collected soon she told the volunteer how thin Poppy was getting despite the amount of food she ate. The volunteer then realised Poppy was possibly hyperthyroid (a condition common these days in older cats) and would need checking by a vet as soon as possible and from the vets she would need to come straight in.
The volunteer operating the Help line searches her list of people who have offered to do cat checking and transport. Most of them can only manage evenings and weekends and she really needs to find someone who is available in the morning or afternoon, so that Poppy can be collected and taken to the vet during surgery hours. She can find no one in Poppy’s area, but eventually finds a volunteer who lives several miles away who offers to do it. Now to find Poppy a foster space
So it goes on. Please if you can offer help to your local rescue so many more little lives can be saved. It does not have to be fostering cats, it could be transporting cats to vets, trapping, fund raising etc.
