The cats' halfway house
Anna de la Cruz does not particularly like animals but twice a day all the cats in the neighborhood turn up at her house to be fed. “I don’t even handle the cats,” Anna stresses. “I talk to them, feed them, order them around, but I never touch them. I don’t like animals.”
That must be why her house in Pasig has become a halfway house for the feline residents of the barangay. The cats can count on at least two full meals in the morning and at night. Many of them turn up for the breakfast serving. None of them are turned away from the communal feeding dish.
“Lately, a half-blind cat has been hanging around the front porch and parking area,” Anna notes, “and we have adopted her too, including her kittens. But she is not allowed to enter the house.”
?Which brings us to the hierarchy in this cat population. Most of the cats stay outside, but a few have been granted access passes to the house. “The kids have their own individual feline wards, and even my husband has one,” Anna explains. “These cats can enter the house and may even sleep over. Otherwise, they all stay in the back porch and laundry area.”
Siblings Gray and Girly What about the dining etiquette? “The resident house cats are served a big plate of food at breakfast time. They eat together — they have been trained not to fight! — while I finish my chores. When they have finished eating, I give their leftover food to the barangay cats outside.
“The house cats wait for me outside the bathroom while I take a shower. After that I serve them their after-breakfast breakfast. Brother and sister Gray and Girlie are served their preferred canned cat food on a two-sectioned dish. Bobby and Heyyou are served in their individual dishes.”
The menu for the cats usually consists of Whiskas or Friskies, rice with fish innards, sayote, and Gray’s favorite bean sprouts. For snacks between meals, they munch on Meow Mix pellets.
?With so many cats in the same place there are bound to be ferocious—or more likely, noisy—battles for territory. Anna says her feline wards do not fight: they’re simply not allowed to. “Gray is the oldest cat, but there is no head cat in this tribe. I will not let it happen. In the beginning I would scold them when they fought, and now they cower when I raise my voice. Some have learned to cover their head and ears when I scold them!
“But they never fight among themselves. They fight only with the stray cats when they go out of the house.”
What’s the best thing about keeping cats, we asked her. “Nothing,” she declares. “I am stuck with fur balls, spit, regurgitations and cat poop that missed the litter box. Sometimes though, you get this feeling of superiority over other creatures. You imagine that you are their mother, that they depend on you and you are in control. Or so you think.”
Heyyou is named after what he is called * * *
Recently we had a rare crisis in our predominantly feline household. I was awakened in the wee hours by my eldest cat Koosi landing heavily on my bed and growling. She had been extra cranky all day, roaring at anyone who approached her.
I figured the cats were having one of their turf wars and went back to sleep. When I woke up the next morning there was a trail of drops of blood leading to the bathroom. Koosi had left bloody stools.
We’ve never had a feline health issue in the house — except for the time Mat refused to eat, an occurrence less common than the Venus Transit — so the discovery of bloody poop caused a sensation. I considered having a nervous breakdown, but remembered that it was easier for me to call the veterinarian than for my cats to find me a psychiatrist.
I sent messages to my Pet Life editor, my sometime cat-sitter Azon (who has 40 cats), and my cats’ vet at Pendragon pet clinic. They said Koosi might have intestinal parasites. How she could get parasites I have no idea, she never leaves the house or associates with other cats besides Saffy and Mat. But I know microorganisms are clever critters and they will find ways to penetrate the cleanest environments.
The vet suggested that before I bring Koosi to the clinic, I try deworming her. I bought the tablets and after a fierce wrestling match, got Koosi to swallow them. By early evening Koosi was entirely herself again, that is, imperious and antisocial. She ate and drank normally, and stopped roaring at me and the other cats.
It was as if nothing had happened and the bloody poop was an image from some half-forgotten horror movie. All is well.
