Charity begins at Home: [a] Cats, [b] Companions and [c] Cycling…
This is the first of three-part piece, each on an aspect affecting Motivation and Actions. There is a linking thread between them leading to the origins of Qhubeka [c]. The connection between the three has a common thread i.e. the motivation for the creation of [c] involves Compassion, Compulsion, Coercion and Commitment… as well as a sense of obligation Below is [a] is the first piece of a trio.
Three stories here to illustrate some Motivational Drives:
Let’s begin with CATS.
Firstly Ferals, Found Felines and Finding homes for strays…
In our family of three households, we all keep cats. We did not go looking for cat company. In every case we each took pity on forlorn strays and gave them shelter. My son Brad and his wife Zelda were the first to rescue a cat. Now they have four- all rescued on different occasions as foundlings which otherwise would have perished. They all stay in contented harmony in a small flat in Seapoint as Companionable Boarders.
On one stormy day many years ago a thoroughly drenched black mother cat came in through the open kitchen door in my house in Alberton carrying an equally drenched, recently born kitten. She was obviously seeking sanctuary.
After wandering around – obviously looking for a place to deposit her offspring – she found the old towel we had placed on the tile floor of the lounge for her, dropped the kitten on it and disappeared again into the storm only to return on four more occasions, each time with another soaked kitten. We fed them for a week or two and then they left.
When she next returned with the kittens they were now considerably bigger and she was pregnant. She had the litter and then again left with everybody. She was not a friendly cat nor were the others. In fact, one could not get near any of them let alone pick them up. The whole brood became table boarders, but when the younger generation started reproducing we contacted the feral cat people.
They of course are all about saving cats and finding homes but as you can’t separate a feral feline family, they asked if I was prepared to keep and feed them, otherwise they would trap them and put them down.
That is not the way I’m wired.
So they came in, trapped the lot and neutered them. As the situation was stabilized and at a constant equilibrium, the distant relationship continued.
I must tell you of two relevant prior stories.
I traveled a lot and regularly between Gauteng and KZN so no pets. Often on my return from KZN there would be a large ginger striped cat around. It soon learned where the fridge was and returned daily at scoff time to be fed. I would go away and return on an irregular basis but, on each occasion, he was there almost as soon as I arrived.
My brother-in-law looked after the house in my absence. He phoned me to say there was an official letter delivered. I asked him to open it. It was from the police. I had been reported for abandoning an animal. It took a bit of puzzling to get to the bottom of this but what eventually emerged was that a neighbour – who himself had cats – was being plagued by a ginger striped cat who not only stole their food but beat up his docile, domesticated feline pets to such an extent that his vet’s bills totalled some R4000.
I spoke to the officer in charge explaining the situation that, far from abandoning the cat, I had been feeding it whenever I was home. Knowing that he was not at liberty to divulge the name of the complainant, I asked that he get the person who had laid the complaint resulting in the charge to contact me to see if, between us, we could solve the problem.
This he did and I duly got a call. He explained that he had been up and down our street in an attempt to find out who owned the culprit but finally decided that, as my house seemed unoccupied, the cat must belong to me and had been left to fend for itself. He had attempted to trap the cat but all he caught was his own pets. Having shown the Vet a picture of the thieving feline, the vet was able to identify it as a Bengal, renowned for aggressive behavior thus named after the tiger – a very expensive pedigree breed and worth at least R5000 .
The neighbour had not been able to get near it for fear of being bitten. This surprised me as, after I had fed it, I could pick it up and cuddle it. Between he and I we hatched a plan. If he advertised a R5000 cat for free to a good home he would be bound to find a taker. When this happened he was to contact me. I would feed the cat (which I had named “House” since he was at home there) then put him in a room in the house, closing the door so he would stay.
This duly happened and when the neighbor arrived he was amazed that I was able put him in the catbox he brought for the new owner to collect.In the event this never happened. It transpired that House was owned by the people directly behind the neighbor whose frontage faced the street behind ours. However, as they had already decided that they no longer wanted House. They did not bother when he was no longer around.
They had just had a baby and perhaps House did not like playing Second Fiddle and, being thus neglected and left to fend for himself, did what any self-reliant cat would do and went elsewhere. House went back to his breeders and that was that.
There is a message somewhere in that story but, for me anyway, a satisfactory resolution.
We are not yet finished with ginger striped cats yet. Cyclops was originally called House Too (or Two) – same story, he was there every time I came back from Natal.
Coming back from a trip, he returned to the house in a sorry state having lost an eye. Hence the new name. Vet said he had been kicked.
I persuaded my other son to take him on. Fortunately my two grandchildren took to him immediately and he eventually to them both, but especially Claire. Then Angela, my daughter-in-law, found a mother cat with a litter at Seattle Coffee where she works. She had found homes for all bar one, which ended up coming home with her. Maverick is now happily ensconced with that sector of the Thompson clan.
Now we come (finally) to the point of this part of the cat, (companion, cycling) saga.
Feral cats are not like domesticated felines. Pets are attached to people. Ferals to territory. A colony of cats do not transpose readily. They are a family and can’t be separated. I was relocating to KZN, to stay in a 7th floor apartment block that does not allow pets.
The tribe numbered 13 at one stage. Of these, three had become domesticated. I spoke to my friends at the feral cat society. They advised culling as the “kindest solution”. The human feral cat community is amazing. And it may come as a surprise to many that there are so many cat-bedonnered folk around who have hoards of cats.
One of the domesticated cats was a particular favorite of mine, sleeping on my bed and keeping me company and sitting on the table alongside me as I typed away on the computer. She inherited the name Copy Cat (after another of his brethren before her) but that changed to “Sock” for the distinguishing one white hind paw. I’m happy to report that she now lives with a lady who already has 21 cats. Her remark in agreeing to take Sock was “What does one extra cat matter?”
That is the good news. The sad news is that all bar three of the rest are now in the place they go to where their Nine Lives Tenure license expires or, as in this case here, is revoked. Humans are not permitted to decide for themselves when it is time to exit but we can determine that for animals even when they would much prefer to stay. To say that I was reluctant to agree to their dispatch is an understatement. Even though this uninvited mob was not people-friendly, they were welcome to stay.
The feral cat people know you cannot rehouse a colony. Cats are in any case territorial. They are a family and cannot be separated. Few households have a large enough property to accommodate them even if they are cat lovers. The three that escaped capture and termination are now super wary of people… and rightly so.
So here is the dilemma..
The new owners are not cat people. I know from experience that some cats do eventually get familiar enough by becoming accustomed to human presence. And a few of those felines, given time, become trusting enough to seemingly seek human companionship.
Compassion aside, that trust engenders a feeling of obligation in the human. That trust betrayed brings regret, remorse and guilt.
So here is the arrangement I made with the new owners. If they keep the three cats on the property, I will pay for the cat food to feed them. My plot is that, given time, a bond may form. That is my hope.
Compassion, Compulsion, Coercion, Commitment, Companionship… and Obligation.
Examining these motivational drives is continued in Part Two, which follows…
How did Ron’s writings end up here? Here’s how.
Ron’s previous columns:
Disclaimer: The opinions and views of Ron Thompson are not necessarily those of TREAD Media.
