Feral Cats, TNR, and a Study in Kindness

When I was traveling through Europe with my future husband, many years ago, we encountered stray cats and colonies of feral cats in several countries--in particular, England, France, Holland, Spain, and Greece. They are beautiful beasts. Some of them seem almost friendly. A few will even let you approach. But beware. Get too close and they start to look cross. And you'll deeply sense that you should back off.

Feral cats are domestic cats that have become wild. They were abandoned or they got lost--or they ran away. In Europe, some wander the streets. A few choose to habituate landmarks--I saw a feral cat on the steps of the Greek Parthenon, atop the Acropolis, overlooking Athens. In England, I found colonies of feral cats in graveyards and barns. They are everywhere, including throughout the USA--The American Association of Feline Practitioners reports that they numbered 73 million in 2000.

In fact, a miniscule number of feral cats colonize the small, ground-level apartment complex in Hollywood where my son, Jack, lives. His landlord not only allows them, he leaves around large bowls of food and water for them. (To protect this genial concord, I will leave him and his locale unnamed.) When Jack and I spoke today, I asked him what he could tell me about the cats and he joked, "They live amongst themselves. Sometimes, I hear a cat fight at four in the morning." We laughed and he continued, "They curl up together at night, they climb trees, and they sneak into people's apartments." He said that, last Christmas, he found a kitten tinkering with ornaments amidst the communal tree (see image 5). The cats generally want nothing to do with people. I can vouch for that. When I visited Jack last September, they gave hasty glances and scurried away. Except for one--while I talked movie talk with the landlord, a handsome striped cat hissed at me in regular intervals. I was too near his perch. However, the one black cat has befriended Jack. It jumps up onto his lap and purrs.