My neighborhood has its share of feral cats. A litter of four was born last spring in the ditch across the street.
This is one of the four and she’s beautiful.
One of the other four looked like her, long hair and all, and the other two were shorter haired. I can’t say I have seen the short haired ones since the summer.
She’s since had her own litter. I only ever saw two of her kittens and only because they ran up my leg when I went to the basement for laundry one morning. One was solid black and the other a tabby saddle, coon tail, with a belly full of white. After climbing my leg they went to hang out a block away and I haven’t seen the black once since.
Here’s the little one that remains. He’s grown since he used my leg for climbing that morning. I say he but I cannot be for sure.
I am not one of the neighbors that puts out food for the cats, unless they love birdseed; I put out plenty of that. My guess is that they love (to eat) the birds; so by default, I guess I am feeding the cats.
I do make it a point, however, to put out water for wildlife during freezing temps which you can see the cats enjoy as well.
Also note the dead, brown plants each of the cats are beside or in, in these images.
That would be catnip which the feral cats do love whether is growing and green or dead and brown; they eat and roll in it all year long. There are two large clumps and a pot of it in my yard and it doesn’t take much rolling in and chomping on it to get everyone all worked up.
I guess they stop by here for a drink (of water) and a (catnip) buzz on their way to Susan or Janet’s to eat. Ha ha ha ha 🙂
Stopping only briefly to wave at the neighbor. 🙂
By the time young Tom has tired of the rope, Mom has been rolling in that crunchy old catnip for some time. She must be covered in it or at least the oil in it that gives cats such a buzz.
I am guessing she feels pretty good. She’s on that rope pretty quick after Tom moves on. But she is so high she isn’t getting up for the game. She’ll just lay there in that catnip and play from the ground.
She barely raises up for a chew.
Then something catches her attention.
And it’s on.
It didn’t last long. Mom wasn’t having it.
Little Tom doesn’t know when to quit!
“What’cha munchin’ on there, Mom? Got some for me?”
“What about no don’t you understand, son?”
“Go away boy, you bother me.”
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