Another Throwaway Cat

   It appears that hateful people are still being hateful.  Yet another "throwaway" cat has arrived at the Little Bayou House.  Why?  Just why?  I can fully understand the occasional need to rehome a pet but to just throw them out as if they were trash is beyond comprehension.  It truly makes my blood boil!  People!  People!  Find a home for your unwanted pet! Do not assume that they can survive on their own. 

  I have been putting out food for several feral cats that have come to call the Bayou their home after being abandoned by their owners.  It does not bother me to feed them but it does irk me to no end that the animals are having to struggle so.  Early this evening, I found that I had a good bit of chicken soup leftover and, well, Son had changed his mind about wanting leftovers three days in a row.  I do not blame him as I was tiring of it, as well.  I, at the same time, found that I was out of the dry cat food that I use for my "outdoor" cats.  So...the cats would eat soup.  I filled the pan with the soup then slipped it near the shed so the cats could eat.  It has been raining all day so the eaves of the shed would shelter the cats as they ate.  I was surprised to see the first one to the pan was a newcomer.  Oh, sweet fella.  I am sorry you were not wanted by your family.

  I watched as the cat ate his fill then crawled back under the shed.  At least, he will have his belly full and will have a dry place to sleep.  It is to be cold and rainy for most of the night so I am sure he appreciates the help given.  So far, not one of the feral cats wished to come inside.  I have tried but they are skittish and untrusting of humans now.  All I can offer is a meal and shelter.  (They have the option of the shed or greenhouse.)

  My hope for humanity has gone down yet another notch.  Critters...I can handle.  People...not so much.

He Has Got To Go!

  Since Son is remodeling the shed, he had to do a good bit of cleaning before he started work.  Stuff had been shoved in there for the past ten years and instantly became lost.  He discarded 90% of the junk but a few items have to stay put right where they were tossed...at least for another couple of weeks.  Some old outdoor Christmas decorations were leaned against the side of the shed with good intentions of donating them.  Well, things happen and those things cause changes in plans. 

  A pair of wrens decided that their nest needed to be decorated for Christmas so they built it in the midst of the figures.  I have adamantly refused to move the decorations.  They will stay until the little ones fledge.  The eggs hatched two days ago and the mama and papa birds are busy creatures.  While I was out working in the gardens, it was nice to see the birds helping me find pests.  Then, it was a thrill to hear the little ones begging for their turn to be fed.  At one point, those hungry tweets were overpowered by terrified shrieks.  Oh, my!  I dropped everything except my trowel and raced to the shed.  A rather large, dirty yellow cat was attempting to raid the nest!  Ok, that was it, you nasty beast!  My trowel went sailing toward the feral cat.  Of course, my aim was way off and the plastic shovel hit the porch rail but the noise was enough to send the cat off in a hasty retreat.  

 I checked on the babies and they were fine.  They had hunkered down in the nest and the parent birds raised enough ruckus to draw my attention in plenty of time.  Now, however, I am worried that the cat will be back.  This feral cat has terrorized the place for too long.  He attacks Ms. Nycto, the Bayou Princes Cat, marks the territory by spraying (and stinking up) the steps and is now trying to make a meal out of the baby birds.  I am thinking a trap may just be purchased real soon.  This thing has got to go. 

Morning Wakeup Call

  Even though I awake before dawn, I now have my own personal alarm clock!  Each and every morning for the past month, a beautiful male Northern Cardinal worms his way out of the jasmine vine where he and Mrs. Cardinal spend the cool nights and sits upon the fence.  He begins a sort of high-pitched squeaking call which echoes throughout the room even though he is a good twenty feet from the window.  Since I know he will be calling, it has become my habit to sit nearby just to hear him.  This is my wake up call!  In fact, I do believe he fully has that in mind.

  Since mid-December, it has been my habit to step outside and put a bit of birdseed out for my fine feathered friends.  I figure food may be getting a tad scarce so giving a helping hand seems to be in order.  This was always done as I headed out the door for my morning hike about the place.  The birds have gotten accustomed to having breakfast served just a few feet from their nightly roosting spot  and now fret if I am a bit late.  

  I have been putting the seeds directly on a low table but that is all about to change.  This morning, there was a feral cat hiding just a few feet away under the front steps.  That rascal was eyeing up my birds!  I shooed it away but it kept returning.  I had no choice but to sit outside in the icy north wind to keep it at bay. Son promised he would build a bird feeder and put it up out of the cat's reach.  Perhaps my sweet friends will be safe, then.  

A Feral Cat, Tea Olives and the Bayou Princess

  This morning's hike was a quick one as I heard Ms. Nycto, the Bayou Princess Cat, howling like no one's business.  That meant only one thing...another cat was in the yard.  While Ms. Nycto may look huge and may have a loud howl, that is about the extent of her ability to defend herself.  She is after all...a princess....and, well, one of royalty does not tussle.  Her best idea is to climb the nearest tree not knowing that other cats can climb equally as well if not better.  The tree climbing idea is not a bad one except Ms. Nycto has yet to figure out how to get back down out of a tree.  She sits and meows plaintively in hopes that Son will climb up after her.  My idea?  Leave her be.  She will learn that what goes up...must come down.  Her doleful calls pull at the heartstrings, however, so I try to divert the whole event.  

  It was when I went through the east garden gate that I had to stop in my tracks regardless of an impending cat brawl.  Wafting in the air was the sweet scent of peaches...or apricots...or something!  Yep, the Tea Olive was in bloom and the delightful aroma overpowered the urge to rescue a helpless princess.  The tiny blossoms had captured my attention!  Oh, my goodness!  There appear to be enough that I may dry them for future use in tisanes!  

  Tea Olive is a shrub that has the tiniest blossoms but the largest scent.  The one quarter inch blooms can fill an entire garden with a peachy fragrance like none other.  These blossoms are often infused in tisanes to give the tea-drinker a most pleasant experience.  The blossoms can also be added to jellies, baked goods, soaps and, well, just about anything you wish to have a delightful scent.  

  My pause at the garden gate was soon interrupted by the Bayou Princess.  She had come to glare at me as if to say, "Why did you not come when I summoned you?"  She looked none the worse for wear and prissed her way to the front step and demanded to be let back inside.  She had already had enough frustration for the day and needed a nap!  I gladly consented so I could continue my hike in peace.

The Perfect Tree

  Little Miss Priss has got to be the silliest thing alive.  I am referring to the Bayou Princess Cat, Ms. Nycto.  Before she came to the Bayou in search of a new home (after being thrown from a car), she obviously was a pampered pet.  This was most likely not by those who did the tossing but by her previous owner.  Through observation of the cat, we have deciphered that she must have belonged to an elderly person who gave her unending treats and let her sleep wherever she wanted.  Son believes that perhaps the person was put in a nursing home or (worse) passed away.  Whoever was responsible for the estate took it upon themselves to "dispose" of the cat and decided to just dump her on the side of the road.  It happens far too often here.  It angers me to find more and more pets being discarded this way.  Throwaway pets...so saddening.

  Anyway, Ms. Nycto was in a frenzy this morning to exit the Little Bayou House.  After spending a peaceful night on the foot of my bed, she awoke with the nagging urge to go outside. Before even eating breakfast, she sat at the door meowing at her loudest.  I relented and out she went.  No problems.  She goes out every day to sleep on the garden bench.  I thought that was where she was headed this morning.  To bad it was not.

  Her idea was not to go to the garden but seek out a stray cat that visited last night.  She HAD to protect her territory.  This is all fine and dandy except for the fact that Ms. Nycto has no inkling of how to protect anything.  Her good intentions failed dramatically, once again.  Five minutes after her exiting the house, I heard a lot of hissing and howling.  Oh, my goodness...THAT CAT!  I stepped out the front door to see a blob of dirty yellow barreling down the lane.  This was a feral tomcat that terrorizes the entire neighborhood.  He is a royal pain!  

  Ok, so if the tomcat was here, that means one thing.  Ms. Nycto is in a tree somewhere.  Last time, she chose a thin sapling to climb and became hopelessly stranded.  The tree was far too thin for Son to climb so Ms. Nycto spent the night in the top of the tree.  The next morning, she came tumbling down and made haste to the house.  She did not venture out for an entire week.  With that memory, I started searching.  I immediately found her perched on a high branch of a live oak tree.  Well, Cat!  I am glad you chose that tree, at least!  If need be, Son can prop the ladder against the tree to retrieve the silly cat.  

  Thankfully, this tree was also easy enough for her to exit.  After about an hour of surveying the yard from her vantage point, she sort of tumbled to the ground.  Ms. Nycto is not the most graceful cat, that is for sure. It seems to me that she needs to learn a lesson about getting into trouble.  Feral cats are a lot stronger and feistier than she is.  At least, she chose the perfect tree this time so maybe she is starting to get the idea.  Maybe....probably not.

Lurking Overhead...

  Yesterday's post was all about things lurking in the shadows on my morning hikes.  One can never be too careful when out before the sun rises.  That time of day sees most critters out and about. While I am not overly worried about my wild critters, those of the two legged sort would give me the jitters if I ever came across one.  Nowadays, people are scary!  I am thankful that I live down on the Bayou and not up near the main road.  Sometimes, swampy areas are a blessing.

  This morning, it was not a critter lurking in the palmettos or marsh that gave me cause for concern.  Just before the sun came up over the pines on the opposite side of the Bayou, I heard something on the rooftop!  What was creepy-crawling around up there?  Easing my way out the back door, I soon found my answer.  Two large, green eyes peered through the darkness at me.  Silly cat!  How did you get up there?  Ms. Nycto was stranded atop the house!  Earlier, I had heard a ruckus near the front door and figured there was some cat fight about to happen.  It never did and, obviously, it was because Ms. Nycto did a fancy escape.  She had climbed the oak tree next to the house, made the leap to the roof but then had no idea how to get down.  She is notorious for that.  More than once, we have had to come to her rescue.  This cat is not a fighter...nor very agile about climbing (at least, climbing down!).  Son had to let her in the upstairs window because she was not about to find her own way off the roof.

  The catfight began because there is a feral cat in the area.  This scraggly yellow cat is grubby, skinny and mean.  It will howl and hiss at anyone nearby and threatens other cats (and small dogs).  This morning's episode is the third time that Ms. Nycto has been "treed" by the feral cat.  Enough is enough!  It sure makes me wish that Ms. Put (the Bayou Queen) was still alive.  She never tolerated such misconduct and would have put the rogue in his place.  Many times, this tiny, six pound cat would reprimand (by literally mangling) wrongdoers that came to the Bayou to stir up trouble. I sure miss that little spitfire!  Ms. Nycto has no protection now other than the rooftop.  She needs to learn to stay inside where it is safe!

Out of Control!

  Ok, enough with the throwing out of perfectly good.....pets!  What in the world are people thinking?  Our road seems to have become the dumping ground for unwanted, throwaway pets.  It makes me sick.  Those poor animals have no clue as to what has happened and have no clue about survival.  If they are not hit by cars, coyotes attack them.  The few that do survive the first week usually wind up at the Bayou.  I feed what I can but some become so feral that there is no helping them.  Then they become ill through malnutrition.  Come on, people, use a little commonsense!  This is getting out of control!  If you get a pet, feed it, water it, give it shelter and, by all means, get it fixed!  Neutering the critter can only help.

  Speaking of neutering and unwanted pets, we have been bombarded with tomcats, as of late.  It seems that folks throw these cats out thinking all will be well with them.  Once they become feral, not only are they in danger, they present problems for those of us with pets and gardens.  These tomcats can become quite fierce and attack any smaller animal.  Tomcats, also, mark their territories (and even territories that are not theirs) with some pretty foul smelling urine.  There is nothing worse that taking that first deep breath of "fresh" morning air and inhaling the vomit-inducing stench left by a tomcat.  Now, multiply that acrid smell by 5 or more tomcats and it truly ruins the morn.  

The chrysthanemums are the latest plants to be killed by the feral tomcats.

  The spray from a tomcat messes up paint on doors, ruins deck floors and kills plants.  Yep,...kills plants.  My poor garden is catching it!  Each day for the past week, another perfectly healthy plant is literally "fried" by the spray.  The urine is basically nitrogen that can burn a plant all the way to the roots.  Pop used to occasionally use ammonium nitrate fertilizer pellets in the garden but would always warn us that "...a little goes a long way".   We were instructed to place the fertilizer a good ways away from the plant and then the rain would dilute it before it reached the roots.  AND we were to NEVER get it on the leaves!   But when the cat sprays a plant, the nitrogen is not diluted and it burns the poor plant to a crisp.  So far, two cyclamens, three lavenders and a chrysanthemum have been killed.  

  So, between the garden-killing, foul-smelling spray from the tomcats and the nightly cat fights in the yard, I am ready to set a few traps and call animal control.  This is getting out of hand!  It sure makes me glad that Ms, Nycto, the Bayou Princess, stays inside at night!  Even though she is spayed, she does not need to be harassed by the feral cats tossed out by thoughtless people.

Too Close for Comfort!

  Ok, so I figure that I have two choices here.  Either I am going to have to start discouraging the feral cats from making themselves at home or I am going to have to stop making friends with the wild birds.  Cats and birds do not play happy together.  While the birds seem to have no problem being quite friendly, the cats only look for a meal.  The predator in them seems to leap out whenever a tiny bird hops too near.  

  Today was raking day which also meant leaf-hauling day.  Twenty-two wheelbarrow's full of the leaves were raked and carted off to use as mulch in the lower edge of the property.  This is not a problem for me as long as I am heading downhill but after about the tenth trip back up, I was looking for any excuse to stop along the way.  I found that excuse in the form of a tiny bird.  A Prothonotary Warbler caught my attention on one trip down the hill past the canebrake.  The bright yellow bird seemed unusually friendly so I stopped to have a chat.  While literally talking with the bird, I had a brilliant idea.  I needed a photograph!  I asked the bird to wait while I dashed inside to grab the camera.  Sure enough, the bird was right where I left it when I returned to the wheelbarrow.  Our one-sided conversation began again while I snapped picture after picture of the bird.  At some point, the bird lost all fear of me and let me walk right up to it while it was in the peach tree.  With camera just inches away from the tiny tot, I could see the amazing beauty through the lens.  I was stunned.  

  After a bit, both the bird and I eased toward the citrus trees.  It was searching for any tidbit of bug that it could find.  I watched how it flipped leaf after leaf and when an insect would dart out, the bird had it in a snap.  Neither of us were doing much watching for predators.  The warbler hopped to the ground and when I turned to take another picture, a black blur leapt at my little friend!  NYCTO!!!! NO!!!  The cat turned to look at me as if to say "But I was hungry!"  I shooed the cat under the house and checked on my bird friend.  The little guy seemed none the worse for wear and did not even seem one bit startled.  

  About ten minutes later, our journey took us to the south side of the house.  Oh, no.  I knew that Ms. Put, the other cat, was dozing under the camellia bush and that was right where my friend was heading.  This cat would not be deterred by my shouts and she would not miss if she took a notion to have warbler for lunch.  The best idea seemed to shoo the bird, not the cat.  I directed the bird around to the arbor where there were enough allies in the form of nesting birds.  If either cat made its presence known there, the birds would rally and make life miserable for it.  Whew!  My job seemed complete.

  My wheelbarrow needed to be brought up the hill so I trotted off in that direction.  Meow!  Oh, no.....the feral cats were on the prowl.  I saw the splotchy grey one scoot behind the greenhouse and the black one race under the house.  My poor birds!  While I adore the cats and hate not to help the ferals, I do worry about the birds...especially the cute little ones like this warbler.  

  Just a note about this warbler.  The name "Prothonotary" refers to the clerks in the Roman Catholic Church.  They wore bright yellow robes much like this little bird.  The tiny bird is one of only two warblers that will nest in tree cavities or birdhouses.  Since it loves being in swamps, creeks and bayous, the bird also is known by the name "Golden Swamp Warbler".  It obviously is a very friendly bird without a fear in the world...and that just might be the source of its undoing. 

The Watchcat!

  Sometimes I get so frustrated at folks with no respect for critters.  Here lately, we have seen a barrage of "throwaway" pets.  Inconsiderate folks want cute puppies and kittens but when the pets reaches adulthood, they are tossed to the wayside like trash.  It frustrates me to no end!  I have taken in more animals than I should simply because no one else wants them.  Now, the never-ending string of tossed-out cats has reached a point of aggravation in more ways than I can count. Males are forever marking "their" territory, the cats fight Ms. Put who cannot defend herself any longer, they are stealing food from our pets and they are ripping the screens on doors.  ENOUGH ALREADY!

  Both of our cats are ones that were tossed out like trash and made their way down the long trek to the Bayou.  They were both sweet cats to begin with so I had no problem feeding them and trying to find their original homes. Ms. Put has been with us seemingly forever and I would not have missed the opportunity to have her here.  I adopted Nycto a while back and she has truly become a part of the family.  She has come a long way both physically and emotionally.  When she first came to the Bayou, she was extremely malnourished and scared.  She was highly skeptical of our attempts at helping her.  Not any more.  Now, she is assured of daily meals and a warm bed when she wants it.  

 Nycto standing guard over the greenhouse.  

   Lately though, Nycto has decided that it is her duty to protect the place from interlopers which come in the form of feral cats.  Her nights are spent outside purely by her choice.  Her low, guttural squalls can be heard permeating the night's darkness.  The hisses, screeches and wails that mean nothing but a cat fight is in progress are now a nightly occurrence.  At first, this worried me but not any more.  Obviously, Nycto can take care of herself and is doing a fine job of ridding the area of unwanted intruders.  This used to be Ms. Put's job but since the old Bayou Queen has become more or less incapacitated with age, the youngster has stepped up to the task at hand.  She stands firm and does her best to fill the "shoes" of the old cat.  This is a feat in itself since when Nycto first came to the Bayou, Ms. Put had to rescue her from the interlopers.

  In the past, I have tried to get help with the onslaught of cats that have taken up residence around here.  None of the so-called services wished to be bothered with the situation.  I was told that if the cats were on my property "they are your problem".  Well, problem solved.  Let one fifteen pound cat handle the scrawny ferals.  Sorry.  If these were nice like Ms. Put and Nycto, I would have fed them as well but, now,  Nycto has my blessings for a job well done!