No Name Kitty

There was a kitty who lived in our parking lot. A nice neighbor, Christine, provided food, water, and shelter for him. He had a cozy bed and a covered bed too. I kept a bag of treats in my car and gave him a handful a few times a week. Sometimes he disappeared for a few days, but just when I thought he was gone for good, the next morning I’d see him snoozing under a car as I left for work.

He wasn’t a pretty cat ~ small and sturdy, black and white, but mostly dirty. I often said, “Hi kitty, you need a baff!” He wasn’t amused, nor did he ever come close enough to be touched. And he didn’t meow; I’ve read that ferals don’t. Meowing is something that tame cats learn to do to get attention from people. (Gatsby is a champion meower.) But he did know me and would stare at me sometimes as if to say, ahem, you haven’t given me any treats in a few days… whassup with that?

Last night there was a note on the main door: Christine had called animal control that morning to have the kitty put down. He had been attacked by a raccoon in the night and was severely injured. She asked us to please close the trash bin lids to discourage the raccoons from coming around since other cats prowl around the back of our apartment complex. I didn’t even know we had raccoons! Sometimes I hear horrid shrieky noises in the middle of the night, but I just assume that’s people having sex.

Poor kitty. I cried for him. I imagined him trying to defend the parking lot from a herd of vicious raccoons. They’re so huge and nasty! What was he even thinking? He should have just stayed under a car. And now I’m worried about the 2-3 little black cats back there ~ how could they possibly deal with raccoons? I hope they have sense enough to run away. I also know that people are simply not going to close the trash bin lids when they get full. That’s just how people are. We probably need another bin anyway, since the two we have get overstuffed.

I don’t know how old no name kitty was or what kind of life he had overall. But for the 3+ years I’ve lived here, I suppose he’s had it pretty good for an outside cat, until now. The lifespan for an outside cat is only 4 years. Nature is cruel and savage, always has been. Cats, eagles, snakes, raccoons… I’ve seen/read a lot about nature last few days. Can’t get these images out of my head now. Only the thinnest of walls separates us from savagery at any moment.

Thank you for patrolling our parking lot, no name kitty. RIP. ^..^

Rainbow

 

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15 responses to “No Name Kitty

  1. I’m sad about this. I’ve seen the nameless cat before, yet I never thought to give him (her possibly as there were, as you said, three younger cats of the same fur color), a name. why? Something to think about.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This made me both sad and glad. Did you realize it is national pet week? Nonamekitty didn’t get to be a pet, but this is a fitting eulogy.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I have a sad. Circle of life, yadda, but kitteh!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. He died as he lived. Isn’t that what we are supposed to say?

    Liked by 2 people

  5. That is sad. I’m sorry. I can only echo what everyone else is saying. But true.
    The little feral gray cat (Lizzy, otherwise known as L-bot,) got outside yesterday, and I haven’t seen her since. I’m thinking she may have decided it’s much more interesting out there. I hope she comes back around, though.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. OMG, that’s so sad. You know my heart goes out to the ferals, since Zelda was from a feral line who’d been fed by my mom’s neighbors (a pair of wacky sisters with severe hoarding/sanitation problems.) Zelda sure picked up on meowing with no trouble.
    I’m sorry that No Name won’t be patrolling your parking lot any longer. 😦

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Awww, that’s sad. 😔

    Like

  8. My dad used to feed the feral kitties who lived in the preserve in the middle of our neighborhood. (We now live in his house.) I call it the slough because that’s what it amounts to, but it’s a small protected space for wildlife.

    He would open the garage door a little in winter and had a blanketed area for them to keep warm. A mommy had her kittens there. We took one home when it was old enough. We called him Napolean. When the kittens were still young, maybe 3-4 months, a neighbor called animal control on my dad. They rounded up all the cats they could find to put them down. It’s the first time I ever saw my dad cry.

    Like

  9. I was going to post a response here, but it got out of hand. Moved it over to my blog (asbestos_dust.blogspot.com) if you’re interested.

    Liked by 1 person

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