Last week, I was pretty excited about a feral kitten who had appeared at the house — presumably offspring from the two cats who live across the street. She was a gorgeous calico-like kitten, about two months old or a couple of weeks older, I would guess. She was very thin. She liked to lay in the grass out by the front steps or by the side steps. She did drink the water I put out for her, but I never saw her eating the dry food I put out. I think the daddy kitty, the one I’m calling Big Orange, ate that. I wanted to catch her, get her spayed, and release her. I also hoped she would become comfortable having me around. She watched me. I could get about three feet from her, then she would walk away. She seemed to be conserving energy. She would look at me and open her mouth to meow, but her voice was very soft. I suspect she may have had a bad case of internal parasites, and may have been ill in other ways. I last saw her Monday afternoon around 2 pm. She seemed okay. We’d offered her two spoonfuls of canned food Monday morning, and she cleaned the plate. I was planning to offer her more food Monday evening. I didn’t see her outside, but I still prepared the food and brought it outside. I put it down near the two areas I knew she tended to be under the house, but she never came out. I don’t know if she was under the house or not. The inside cats enjoyed the canned food that evening.

I don’t know what happened to the kitten. I do know I’ve seen no sign of her since Monday afternoon. She could have gone back across the street to hang with the adult cats (but I haven’t seen her with them). Someone could have had a cat trap out for Animal Control, and she could have been caught in that (I’m not aware of traps being in the neighborhood, but it’s possible). As people have told me, someone could have taken her in, but that’s unlikely.

My fear is she was much more ill than I realized, and she went back under the house, curled up, and died there. I do know there will be more feral kittens. The lady who lives behind us considers the female cat hers, and I suspect the cat I call Big Orange is that kitty’s son, who has survived and stays with her, doing what tom cats do with female kitties. Since my neighbor considers those cats hers, I can’t do anything with them (except, apparently feed the Big Orange if I put food out on the side porch). I’ll be on the lookout for more young kitties showing up over here and try to catch them sooner (we left on vacation two days after I discovered this kitten or kittens, and that blew my window for capturing them easily or getting them food fresh after weaning).

I used the binoculars to examine the mama kitty, and she has similar markings to this calico, so there will be more calico and orange kitties created. Mama has white legs, but her calico coloring is similar to the kitten’s. It did become clear just how much tougher a feral kitty’s life is than even an outside cat’s life. Life is serious for them. And unforgiving.