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How To Magickally Care For Feral Cats
Monday morning, the fourth week of September, and my youngest cat
toddles from his breakfast bowl to the living room, suddenly joggled by
the convulsions of a hairball.
I dash in and whisk him across the dining room's carpeted sea to the
vinyl shores of the kitchen. Almost there, I trip over the lace edge of
my nightgown and land on my hip, the cat still in my hands, suspended
above me like a football plucked from midair as I roll to the goal
line, and the hairball plops out on the vinyl floor.
My husband slumps in his reclining chair, reading the paper, and then
leaps toward the kitchen when he sees me fall with the cat. But I
laugh, unharmed and happy to deliver the carpet from the hairball's
messy threat.
When we had been married for six months, my husband found a feral
kitten behind the trashcan at our apartment building and brought it to
me. I adopted it and have rescued feral cats ever since. Sometimes only
one cat appears. Other times I care for colonies of feral cats,
doctoring their wounds and illnesses, practicing the catch/fix/release
method until I can find good homes for them.
My latest feral colony lives in the forest behind my house and peaked
at twenty-one cats and kittens last year. After spending four months
catching, fixing, and releasing them, I began seeking good homes for
them, and at the moment only nine are left, basking on my back porch in
the sun and frolicking in the forest at night.
After twenty-seven years of cat rescue I've developed a few tricks for
taming and socializing feral strays. Or maybe it's just that my
unconventional methods work particularly well. While most allow a feral
cat plenty of space the first few weeks, I stalk a stray persistently,
drawing it closer and closer, using soft words and food to calm the
cat's fears. Because I'm also a Wiccan Witch, I often use a Goddess
chant, invoking the forest faeries to help me in this quest as I sing
to the stray I'm stalking:
"Great Lady Bast, Ancient Goddess of Cats,
grace my voice with your sacred dance.
Faeries of the air, stream, flame, and tree,
lead this precious cat-child of yours to me."
For a day or so I back away from the food I leave, allowing the
starving cat to eat in peace. But after that, I stand a few feet from
the food bowl, inching closer each time, forcing the cat to tolerate my
presence. This gentle but aggressive strategy maintains my edge, slowly
pushing the cat beyond its comfort zone, using food as my primary tool.
Soon I stand next to the bowl, singing or talking softly to the cat so
it might associate my voice with safety and tasty food. That's when I
touch the cat for the first time, its back turned while eating. Often
this is a feral cat's first experience with human touch, and it will
bolt, running away in terror. But it always returns for food the next
day, and I continue to touch, my hand remaining on its coat a little
longer each time, building trust, until my fingers travel up and down
the cat's back, its tail shoots up, and soon it runs to me when I call,
as anxious to be petted as fed.
Now, seated before the sliding glass door, I laugh as each of my indoor
cats competes for my lap. It's hard to believe these four were once
skittish ferals I claimed from the wild with soft words and faerie
spells.
* * * * *
During book signings at bookstores and cat shows, someone will always
ask what I think about the ups and downs in a feral cat's life. I tell
them I believe cats to be faeries who have taken animal form to bless
us with opportunities to love and give.
Lately I've been thinking about Petunia, one of my feral cats a little
over a year old, who died in June from heart failure. A sweet, shy cat
adored by all because she loved to groom the others in the colony. A
unique spirit, who truly blessed my life with enormous amounts of love,
then shed her feline body and flew to Summerland for a time before
returning to the faerie mound. Witches believe Summerland to be the
place all human and animal spirits go when they pass over to the other
side. Christians call this place Heaven.
I miss her terribly, but cherish each day blessed by her presence,
which began hours after Petunia's birth, when I found her nestled in
pine straw with her sister beside the storage shed in the back yard, a
discovery heralding another year bewitched with the magick of feral
cats and kittens.
* * * * *
When readers of my cat poetry books and novels learn of my devotion to
feral cat rescue, they often inquire how I manage to feed so many cats
economically. I tell them I not only feed my colonies dry cat food but
also make an inexpensive meat gruel packed with herbs and vitamins,
which strengthens their immune systems and encourages shiny coats.
In a large vitamin bottle I drop one tablet of garlic and then five
tablets of vitamin C, cat vitamins, and L-lysine. To this I add three
squirts of colloidal silver, fill the bottle with water, and store it
in the refrigerator. Within an hour the tablets melt, producing a handy
liquid supplement.
I make my special gruel in a small mixing bowl, combining one cup of
dry rice baby cereal flakes with one three-ounce can of cat food and
half a carton of cat milk. To this mixture I empty two capsules of
echinacea herb, a splash of my homemade liquid supplement, and a cup of
dry cat food. I fill the bowl with three cups of water and mix
thoroughly, creating a nutritious, meaty gruel, which will easily feed
up to fourteen cats.
Anyone interested in caring for a feral colony can use this
inexpensive, nutritious recipe to help their fur children grow into
healthy felines. The grains in the gruel add an extra layer of fat to
the cat's body, which boosts its resistance to upper respiratory
infections during cold winter months. The garlic strengthens its immune
system, builds a natural resistance to fleas, enhances the flavor of
the food, and promotes a sleek coat.
* * * * *
Last Thursday, on a night torched with moonglow, Petunia appeared. Just
like a cat she crept into the middle of a dream, which dissolved
immediately, her large eyes verdant pools of compassion pulling me
toward her.
Whether I remain conscious or asleep I often see the spirits of people
and animals I have loved, who've left the Earth and passed over to
Summerland, usually a few hours or days afterwards. My housecats and
stray cats always come back to visit me, expressing the happiness they
feel, dwelling now on the other side.
Petunia carried the same message, but in her case she also came to
grant me a glimpse of the cats frolicking in Summerland, each healthy,
some grooming one another or romping through fields flush with
butterflies. A visual portrait of cat revelry that will surely remain
with me for the rest of my life.
Sometimes I wonder how many of my feral cats shall inhabit Summerland
when my spirit arrives. Even if only a few, oh, what a magickal cat
party we'll have!
Tags: Cat General Info Feral Cats How To Magickally Care For Feral Cats feral colony feral strays |
It seems that those who fear feral cats fail to truly understand them.
As a pagan myself, who uses healing magicks, and calls on Bast quite often, I can say I've never met a feral cat that was beyond help or hope. Perhaps it is the Goddess's way of blessing us?
Thank you for this article.It's so good to see how much you care about these furry friends of ours.