A poem from a feral cat
This anonymous poem gives the cats’ point of view
I may never be a lap cat,
or one who comes when called.
I may resist the hand that tries to touch
and some may think I’m flawed.
I may prefer my freedom
to your warm and cozy house
I may reject a bowl of finest foods
for the chance to catch a mouse.
But the box you put out for me,
Feels safe and warm and dry.
And I raise my eyes to thank you
when I see you walking by.
I eat the food you give me
I listen to your voice
I may never be a lap cat
but thank you for offering me the choice.
One day I’ll see the winter,
one day I’ll feel the rain,
I may grow old not knowing
there is freedom from this pain
I know you’ve tried to help me
and although my days will end
I may never be a lap cat
but I know you are my friend.
(Author unknown)
We continue to be called to sites where cats that have been living wild are too feral to ever live in a domestic environment.
We help by neutering the colony to prevent it growing, with medical care for the sick and injured, sometimes with cat houses and ongoing food supplies where we can.