|A feral cat lives under this garden Shed in our front yard.|
I believe we have a feral cat living under the little garden shed. I can't say for sure. I have only seen her once. But judging by the amount of cat prints around the driveway and the shed, she certainly visits often...
|This is where Lucky found the trail to come up from the Draw, down behind the pile of Snow.|
She looked like a Coon Cat, but it was difficult to say. She was grey and black, long-haired and large! This was one wild cat who looked as if she had no trouble looking after herself.
|There will be much ploughing and shovelling today!|
Lucky, covered in Snow and looking like a large, furry, white dog, with bits of red hair showing, makes a bee-line to the bottom corner of the shed. Sniffing once, he makes the decision...the Cat was in there!
Stiff-legged, he walks around the shed...and I immediately hear a soft, muffled yelp as he misjudges a Snow drift and falls down into the Draw...
As I come around the corner of the shed, he was already dusting himself off at the bottom of the Draw. It is really dark back there behind the shed and I can't see well, but I know he will find it difficult to come back up from where he's fallen.
|It is so very, very DARK in the Draw...|
This whole thing is becoming ludicrous.
I am covered in Snow, it is dark as Hades, and I am becoming aware that it is also cold. It is 5:30 AM...what on Earth am I doing outside in pyjamas, in the Cariboo Winter, trying to coax a Dog back up from a deep, dark Draw?
Oh well. It is where I am at the moment. And the Dog is Lucky...
|That Orb is following me around...|
I stare at them, those golden eyes as mesmerizing as the drifting, falling sheets of Snow.
The sound of Lucky clambering about in the Snow falls away, as quick thoughts chase through my mind. Is it a Cat? Are those eyes not too large for just a small Cat? The hairs at the back of my neck begin to rise...and not only because it is cold.
|Doubtful, but in the dark?...|
It is a safe place for a feral Cat to over-Winter. Now that I am back on the safety of the porch, I have found my common sense and courage, and am sure it is a Cat. So close to the house, it is unlikely a predator would bother to dig for this prey, ensconced so cozily in the Earth underneath the little green shed...giving another measure of safety. I wonder again if she is pregnant.
I go into the house and grab a towel. Our boy Lucky is wet and covered in Snow, with a few scratches here and there, and I want to brush him off before he comes into the house. I brush myself off as well...
|Not my photo, but reminiscent of those golden eyes!|
Lucky and I go in, grateful for the warmth. As I sit here, I battle with myself...should I go out with a little food for our feral Cat? I know the rules...no feeding wildlife, even if it is a Cat. But there is a Blizzard blowing...
I warm up, my limbs becoming less stiff. I ponder and wonder. I shake my head, knowing what I will do, even as I argue with myself. What if the animal is not a Cat?
|A Keeper of Animals|
She tells me all things, wild and tame, deserve a break now and again. She asks me to put myself in the Animal's place, under a shed, in a Snow Storm, with Snow drifts much higher than a small Animal. She asks me...have I ever known real hunger and thirst? Suddenly, it no longer matters if the Animal is a Cat.
And there is a tin of Tuna in the cupboard...
Too late now. My feet are already blocks of Ice, so at least there is no feeling there. I consider it will not take long to place the bowl of Tuna where the Cat will find it easily, but I have not taken into that consideration the quickly falling Snow and how deep it is becoming.
I go around the back of the Shed, where overhanging branches from the Fir Trees keep Snow away. Usually.
It is becoming light now, Dawn has arrived. I place the bowl of Tuna close to the only opening left at the bottom of the Shed...others are completely covered by Snow.
I fly face first into a huge drift of Snow, which also breaks my fall. I have so many layers of clothing on, as I hit the Snow, I hardly feel any pain, but I know it will surely arrive later. Fibromyalgia does not like face plants into Snow in the cold. However, I continue to lie there, catching my bearings.
I wonder how long it would take before I am completely covered in Snow. Not long, I'd wager, since there is at least a foot that has fallen since Lucky and I were first outside. When Snow falls like this in the Cariboo, many things are covered which don't see the light of day until May...
So far, I find lying here in the Snow comfortable, other than freezing feet. As I turn my head to breathe better, I glance over at the bowl...and see a grey Cat head withdrawing back under the Shed, as she sees me moving.
As I stiffly gather myself back up, I am glad I saw her. I am glad, as well, that I braved the Snow and cold and brought her a little sustenance, on a day like this, when she may not be able to go out to hunt for food.
The day has begun with a bang...and it is not even 7 AM yet. Good grief...
As I watch the falling Snow, I wonder what the rest of the day will bring.
If it is up to me, it will be spent with feet propped up in front of the Fireplace and perhaps, drawing another face, another somebody with wisdom to impart...