I love the lady at Allsup's. She's done the right thing, to take in those feral cats, defend them from all comers, make sure they're spayed if possible, and talk to people about standing up for them and saving them. The argument for having spayed feral cats around is simple: they'll keep unspayed feral cats from hanging around, because they're territorial, and that will be good for everyone.
I admit that I don't know the whole story. It could very well be that they get the birds that are feeding in the hummingbird feeders, or they harass somebody else's pets. I'm sure they're not perfect, because, though she feeds them pretty regularly, cats are cats, and they're out there. So yes, they'll haul down a few birds, and maybe a few mice and voles, which in general I'd say, is good for downtown. But downtown has skunks too, and various other things, and I really have no idea who comes out at night.
She would work the night shift at Allsup's, and keep track of which ones crossed the highway, or got hit on the highway, or came back regularly for more. She knew them by name, the dozen or so that she considered the village cats. Some were injured, probably, or imperfect. Most had been abandoned at some point by somebody.
But what happened was, apparently, somebody came around and dropped off a number more. Maybe this happened one at a time, or maybe somebody had five or six they didn't know what to do with. Maybe they thought this was about the best they could do for their cats, since they were moving where they couldn't take them, and they had to do something. Turning them over to animal control is basically allowing for their deaths, so nobody really wants to do that. But alas, now that seems like it will be the fate of all these cats. Animal control is coming. There are too many of them. Somebody has complained, and the tides turned against her. There were simply too many, and they were all over the place.
I once was in a position where I had to get rid of four kitties in one day. I was desperate as I was moving to a place that didn't allow them. I'd already paid $50 to get one or two of them back from animal control; I don't remember the amount, or the details, but I do for some reason remember that it was $50 I couldn't afford. And one of them had fallen from a high shelf and scratched the living bejeesus out of my cello, which was just sitting there uncovered. But that was my fault. These were innocent kittens. I think my two had been doubled by a friend who dropped off two of hers, under the same condition: she was moving.
We were irresponsible cat owners, what can I say? I saw the clock ticking and I had no options for these four kitties.
FInally I took them down to the bar; it was this time of year, late August, and the bar had an outdoor patio where people were passionately getting drunk and socializing.
Well, I had no trouble getting rid of them there; I got rid of four in about twenty minutes. Got rid of the first three in about three minutes. The fourth, I had some trouble with, but someone came by and took him. They were cute; they were kittens. But these were drunks. For months, every time I came to that bar, I'd hear stories about the kittens. Most had come to bad end, or at least gone from owner to owner. Very few of the people who took them were actually able to keep them for any length of time.
Still, I was proud of myself, because I hadn't given them up and let animal control have them. That was a sure death for them, and I avoided it.
So many things are like that these days. There are way too many kitties in this world, not enough no-kill shelters. I admire Kinky Friedman, the Texan who turned over his dad's ranch to be a no-kill shelter (first in Texas? Only one in Texas?) - for one thing, because it saved his musical career, and allowed him, a second-rate musician, to remain a star and play publicly for years, as a benefit. Back on the ranch, I think he mainly ensured that they lived, that they had a decent Texas-country life, spayed but loved, and let their numbers skyrocked as demand ensured. But you know, demand is huge. Cats are legion. Our twenty are not the only ones out there. They are just the ones that are struggling to make it at 9000 feet.
The village needs to do something here, and just killing them, I think, is not an appropriate response. I can't argue with the people who say, maybe two dozen is too much. I have no idea if this over-supply would simply take care of itself over a few years (as the mountain lions, and presumably the fox, and others, would come to learn about the easy pickings). I can sympathize with the people who simply can't wait that long, who want their town back, who perhaps want to be able to feed birds or have them around again. I don't know the answer to this problem.
I sense, though, that somebody needs to take a truck load of them to a no-kill shelter, and drop them off somewhere where they have a chance. Maybe that should be me.
