“What do you make of that?” Jerry asked me, pointing toward our backyard.
I glanced out the window in the direction Jerry pointed. Mama Cat, a black feral cat, stretched out against our block wall.
“Do you think she’s sleeping?” Jerry asked, hoping for the best.
Several weeks ago, the feral black cat had given birth to kittens in our bougainvillea bush. Jerry found them when we returned from our vacation. Our absence must have made Mama Cat consider our bougainvillea bush a peaceful spot for the raising of her babies. When Jerry discovered the kittens, they were too young to be taken from their mother. We decided to leave them right where they were until we had a plan of what to do for the kittens when they were able to leave Mama.
The following day, we checked in on the kittens. They were gone. No Mama Cat. No babies. Our next-door neighbors had returned from their vacation with their dog Barkley. It appeared Mama didn’t think our bougainvillea bush the best place for a quiet nursery after all.
“It doesn’t look good,” I said to Jerry in response to his question.
Jerry opened our back door, and Mama Cat didn’t move.
“Someone poisoned her,” Jerry said when he came back inside. The physical evidence of what the cat endured for her last moments on earth gave us no doubt.
A black cat dead in our backyard on Halloween Day. Jerry and I didn’t know if Mama Cat lost her life due to being a black feline at Halloween or if someone thought she was a nuisance and decided to rid the world of her. Both Jerry and I felt sad for the loss of this cat’s life.
“Where are the kittens?” Jerry wondered aloud.
We had no idea and for the next several days we kept checking the bougainvillea bush to see if the kittens returned in search of their mother.
We later learned from one of our neighbors that two of the kittens had been found alive inside a planter. The neighbor took the two kittens to a no-kill shelter.
“I saw four kittens,” Jerry said. “Where are the others?” Jerry continued to check the bougainvillea bush to see if the other two kittens would return. I gave up after three days of looking.
But Jerry didn’t give up. He continued to keep a look-out. When he heard a squeaking sound coming from our backyard, Jerry called me. He suspected a kitten had returned. It was growing dark and I grabbed a flash light. read more