Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 05 - The Colony Cat Caper (2 page)

“What will this entail? Is there anyone working out there now? Or will you be starting from scratch; trapping and all?”

Savannah gently massaged his hand and thought for a moment about how to respond. “Well, as I understand it, these cats aren’t being cared for. Yes, it’s a new colony…well, maybe an older colony, but Colbi doesn’t think anyone’s feeding out there.” She leaned toward him. “Oh Michael, I’ve always been interested in cat colonies. I’d love to learn more about them and be a part of creating a healthy environment for these throw-away cats.” She looked into his eyes. “Don’t you see, Michael? I want to make a difference.”

“But is the timing right for this, Savan
nah? We’re going to have a baby next month.”

“A lot of mothers have outside interests—some even work full time,” she reminded him. “This isn’t going to be as demanding as a job. Once we get the colony healthy, it’s just a matter of maintenance, and the ba
by can go with me when I feed the cats.”

Michael stared down at their hands, squeezed hers, and said, “Uh-huh.”

Savannah continued in her effort to win him over. “Of course, our baby will come first in all of our decisions. If this isn’t working for our family, I will stop. I promise.” She looked at him, reached up and brushed back the stubborn hairs that hung over one eyebrow, and said, “I really want to do this, Michael.”

He grimaced and then smiled. “I’ve never denied you anything, have I, Savannah?”

“No,” she said moving her head back and forth slowly. “I appreciate that about our relationship. We’re free to be who we are and do what we feel we need or want to do.” She looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments, and then asked, “You feel the same, don’t you, Michael? I haven’t gotten in your way, have I?”

He put one hand up to his chin and stared off into space, as if thinking. An impish smile appeared on his handsome face. “Wellllll,” he said, “you don’t let me pile up my sawdust as high as I’d li
ke to.”

“Oh stop it,” she said, indignantly. “The sawdust issue again…if I didn’t sweep up after you work on your renovation projects around this house, we’d be buried in sawdust by now.”

Michael laughed and then turned serious. “Okay, Savannah. Go for it, hon. Caring for a cat colony is a worthwhile project and if that’s what you want to do, I won’t interfere.” He squinted in her direction. “But how involved will you expect me to be?”

“Just support me,” she said.

He sighed in relief.

Savannah stood an
d walked toward the kitchen saying, “And go with me to feed, carry heavy traps, load bags of cat food in my car…”

He jumped up from the sofa and followed after her. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, laughing. “Okay, Savannah. I guess it goes with th
e territory.” He suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Whoa there, Rags,” he said as the cat raced around the corner in front of him, nearly knocking him off balance. “Where are you going so fast, and what do you have?” He turned toward the lanky cat and made an attempt to grab him, but missed.

Savannah watched as Michael raced up the staircase after the cat, then she retreated into the kitchen, a wide smile on her face.
And baby makes seven,
she thought as she glanced over at Lexie, who was lying quietly in her bed next to the outside kitchen door, chewing the innards out of a toy mouse. She shook her head in disgust, and walked over to pick up the fluff the dog had spread all around the area. As she headed toward the trash can with the mess, she noticed that Walter and Buffy were waiting rather impatiently next to their kitty food bowls. Walter, expressing a rare foul mood, reached out with one of his coal black paws and bopped Buffy on top of her pretty head. The little Himalayan-mix flattened her ears and hissed at him.
Can this household be any more chaotic?
She laughed and rubbed the sides of her bulging belly.

“What did he have?” Savannah asked when she heard Michael enter the kitchen behind her.

“One of the baby’s toys, again,” he said in disgust. “In fact, I found all of these in his stash upstairs.”

Savannah turned in time to see Rags stretching up Michael’s leg, trying to retrieve his contraband.

“Look at all these toys he’s stolen from the nursery. Savannah, you have to keep that door closed,” he said.

Savannah smiled down at the cat and shook her head. “Ragsie, you are one high-maintenance cat.”

“Yeowwwllll.”

The couple quickly looked toward Walter and Buffy, whose spat had accelerated. “Gads, I’d better feed them before they devour each oth
er,” Savannah said with a laugh.

***

The next morning, Margaret drove Savannah and Colbi out to the Fischer building.

“What was this place, anyway?” Savannah asked as they approached the cul-de-sac at the end of the industrial area. She looked around. “W
hy is it so far away from the rest of the buildings?” Before the others could answer, she said, “Uh-oh—chain-link fence—can we get in? We can’t even see in there through that green mesh stuff.”

Margaret grinned back at Colbi who sat buckled in the backsea
t of Margaret’s SUV. “She’s sure full of questions, isn’t she?”

“Well, I had a lot of them, too, but Damon clued me in about a few things.” She leaned toward Margaret and said, “You’ve lived here for a long time. You probably know the history of this buil
ding.” She tapped Savannah on the shoulder and said, “But I can tell you that there is a way in through that daunting fence, and we will have to go in there if we want to find the cats. When Damon and I were here, there was no problem going through the gate. See, Maggie, the opening is just over there to the right. You can park closer so Savannah doesn’t have to walk far.”

“You mean
waddle,
” Margaret said with a chuckle.

Savannah made a face at her aunt.

“Well you do waddle, girl…big time!” She laughed out loud. “Looks funny.”

“Looks uncomfortable,” Colbi said with an air of concern. “But it won’t be long now, right?” she asked, her pretty face lit up in a smile.

“We’re down to four and a half weeks,” Savannah said, grinning.

“Okay,” Margaret said once
she had parked the car, “who has the notepad and pencil? Our first task is to identify the cats, right?”

Savannah looked at the notes she had taken at the workshop and said, “Yup. Count and identify.”

“And evaluate,” Colbi offered.

“That’s right,” Marg
aret said, pulling a lawn chair from the back of the SUV. She then led the others toward the opening in the fence. “Let’s get started.”

“What’s the chair for Auntie?” Savannah asked.

“You!” she said.

“How thoughtful,” Savannah said with a wide smile.

“Not really. I just don’t want you having that baby on my watch. You’re gonna take it easy.”

“Oh Auntie,” she said, “I’m not even having contractions. But I sure do get tired when I stand for too long.” She looked down at her aunt, pulled her jacket around
herself, and said, “Even if you weren’t being thoughtful, I appreciate it.”

Margaret stopped and stared at Savannah. “You look like a big pickle in that green jacket. Where’d you get it, anyway?”

“It’s Michael’s,” she said, pouting a little. “None of mine will go around me anymore.”

Colbi grinned at the two women and then said, “Now let’s enter quietly. We’re more apt to see cats if we don’t startle them.”

The threesome walked through the slightly ajar gate. As they did, they saw a flurry of muted shades of black, white, grey, and tangerine disappear in all directions. Most of the cats darted under the building through a crawl space that had long ago lost its cover. Margaret leaned the chair against the fence, set a stack of large stainless steel bowls nearby, and motioned for the others to follow her. They walked slowly around the perimeter of the large, old building, glancing in all directions with hope of spotting cats. Margaret whispered, “Looks like someone has fed them at one time. See those crusted-over bowls?” She gazed around the area. “I don’t see water anywhere.”

“I’m sure the water was shut off years ago,” Savannah said. “Guess we’ll have to haul
it in.”

“Oh no,” Colbi said, “we should have brought some.”

“Got it in the car,” Margaret said.

Colbi cocked her head. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you, Maggie?”

“Yeah, a time or two,” she admitted.

“Look,” Savannah said in a hushed tone, “the di
rt under that faucet is damp. See, it’s dripping.” She walked over to the spigot and attempted to turn the knob. “It’s stuck.”

“Guess we need pliers to turn it on,” Colbi offered. “Put that on your notepad, Savannah.”

“Yes, pliers and a watering hose,” she said as she wrote. “Oh!” she exclaimed.

“What?” Colbi and Margaret asked, looking in Savannah’s direction.

“I disturbed a little cat hiding in these bushes. It just ran around to where the others went under the building.”

“Listen, let’s go back over
there and hang out for a while,” Margaret said. “…see if we can get a good look at any of the cats.”

“Shall I go get the food and water?” Colbi asked.

Margaret considered her suggestion and answered, “Yeah, why don’t we bring it in now. I thought we’d feed when we left, but maybe we’ll have a better chance of observing the cats if we feed them now.” She whispered to Savannah, “Wait here. We’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” Savannah said. As she waited, she kept her eyes peeled on the opening leading under the
building. Upon seeing nothing—no movement, no inquisitive kitty noses or curious eyes, she looked around the area. She observed that the building was in dire need of paint and some of the windows had been broken.
You’d need a really tall ladder to climb in, though,
she thought.
Like a fireman’s extension ladder.
She noticed bars on some of the windows.
I wonder what this old place was used for. It must have employed a lot of people at one time. And they must have had a few cats around for rodent control.
She peered through a tear in the green mesh at the area beyond the industrial park.
Yeah, it’s still kind of wild out here. I can see that they might have a rodent problem. So they brought in some cats, didn’t prevent them from breeding, and next thing you know, they’re faced with an explosion of cats—and probably not nice cats—but strays that, without human contact, have turned wild.

“Here, sit,” Margaret instructed when she and Colbi returned. She opened the lawn chair and set it on solid ground for Savann
ah.

“Thanks, I will.” She looked up at her aunt and whispered with a smirk, “I’m enjoying all this pampering.”

“Don’t get used to it, Missy,” Margaret spat good-naturedly as she and Colbi prepared breakfast for the cats. “Now be still,” she whispered to her companions.

Once the bowls of food were set out for the cats, the three women waited and watched from a distance of about twenty feet. Savannah held a pad and pencil in her lap. It didn’t take long for the cats to begin making an appearance.

Colbi crouched next to Savannah and whispered, “Black-and-white long-hair with white tip on tail. Approximate age…” she looked up at Margaret.

“Adult,” the older woman said with a shrug, as she snapped a photo of the cat with her phone camera.

Colbi continued, “Cream-colored—maybe it was originally white. An older cat. Two tabbies—one dark and one light. The light one has white paws. Oh another tabby—orange—skinny, short-hair with a white muzzle. An all-white long-hair—under a year. Dark-mackerel-and-white…large cat. Very thin, white paws. Two half-grown kittens—black-and-white—one has more white than black. Another white long-hair—smaller than the others.”

“I see something just inside the crawl space,” Margaret said. “Those may be the kittens you saw the other n
ight, Colbi.”

“They’re sure hungry,” Savannah whispered. “Look at them go for the food. And thirsty…” she added. “But those kittens are afraid to come out and eat.”

“Abscess,” Margaret whispered loudly.

“Which one?” Savannah asked.

“The orange skinny one—on his face, dammit. He needs care. Gonna have to trap him first, and maybe that other real skinny one.”

“Yeah, how do you do that?” Savannah asked after making notes on her pad. “I mean, how do you catch the one you want?”

“That can be a problem,” Margaret said. “I’ll leave one of the traps set and we’ll hope for the best.”

“Got tuna?” Colbi asked, brushing dust from the knees of her extra-small size jeans.

“Huh?” Margaret said. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” Colbi scrunched up her nose. “
To bait the trap.”

Just then the women saw the cats scatter. Most of them darted into the crawl space. A couple of them ran around the side of the building into an overgrowth of shrubs.

“Now what caused that stampede?” Margaret asked. She glanced to her right and said, “Uh-oh. Cops.”