Caterwauling
I don’t think I’ve ever named a post by the same name as the blog.
But I was up late working (as I avoided a task for five days and the clock had more than run out) last night and I heard a cacophony of cats.
Faceypages had told me yesterday, via Memories, that it was the last day I fed the street cats.
Meatball knew I was done. He followed me all over the complex, which he never did. Almost begging me to reconsider.
I didn’t even know I was done at that time. But he knew.
Anyway I was already feeling like shit about it all when I heard cries at midnight.
I was hoping it was one of the annoying kids who come here for the winter/spring. But when I went to my balcony, I could see a bunch of cats. And hear them.
Don’t know if they were howling at the full moon. Honestly I have lived here six years and never heard that before.
Given the time, my guess is Rita hadn’t gone to feed them.
Given the time, I was very tempted to break into my new delivery of cat food and go take care of them.
But I didn’t, as I am an asshole.
I finished my project and went to bed.
But I can’t get their screams out of my head.
I remember Butterface on a Bike threatening to round them up and take them to the kill shelter. As if they’d ever go near her.
You know, those cries were so loud, you’d think people would band together and say hey let’s help these little guys. Let them eat. From a bowl, not the pavement. In peace.
I’d decided not to get involved again because of that. I don’t want to be put in situations where I want to punch people (or punch them back). I don’t want to drop expensive food on the only pavement they are allowed to be on, which is covered in dog pee and bird shit.
My guess is the new cats aren’t fixed. But I forfeited my right to know anything.
Anyway if there is a hell, this is why I’ll be going. For being able to help and actively choosing not to.