I’m downright ashamed that I’ve ignored this blog for about six weeks now. Shame on me. Between working, moving, navigating a child through his temporary life in a cast and wheelchair, and beating education into the minds of my young offspring, I’ve had my hands full. Now I come to you in total supplication, beg your forgiveness, and appeal to you for help solving a problem of the highest order.
What am I supposed to do about the warring factions of cats between which I’ve suddenly found myself ?
Here’s the deal. When I moved my family of kids and cats into this new house, I knew they’d all love the backyard that ends in a large watering hole that’s home to fish, turtles, and all sorts of cool birds that come by.
Predictably, the cats are in awe of constant stream of activity and sit for hours on the lanai, quaking, chattering, and chirping at whatever flits by — including the occasional plastic bag on a windy day.
What I wasn’t expecting was the cutest little homeless calico cat who stops by for a visit. She’s apparently well-known (and well cared-for) in the neighborhood. From what I gather, she’s named Chloe and everyone takes turns feeding her and giving her whatever attention she’s looking for (which, as you’ll soon see, is a lot). She has no particular home, but rather has the run of the block. Since we’re in Florida, she’s not in danger of freezing to death so as long as she steers clear of everyone’s golf carts, she should be fine.
Well, except for the weensy problem my cats seem to be having with her.
Scooter and Tetley are typically fairly low-key cats but they go completely screaming bonkers when Chloe comes around. I get that they want to protect their turf and really try hard not to laugh, but they’re so…well, melodramatic.
I always know when poor little Chloe comes by because if my girls are lounging in the lanai chairs (which happens often), all I hear is “MMMMMRRRAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOORRRRRRRRRrrrrRRRrrrrrrrRRRRRRrrrrr” in tandem. Roughly translated, that means, “Step off our property before I slice out your trachea.” Scooter throws in the tail-tip twitch for added measure which is, of course, cat-code for The Finger.
When not on the lanai, my cats will usually sit at the sliding glass door that leads to it and monitor whatever is going on outside. This is Chloe’s clue to come through the screen and sit nose-to-nose with my cats, thereby enraging them to the point of hysteria. Let me tell you, it’s big fun to try and watch a movie on the living room couch while the felines reproduce scenes from West Side Story in the kitchen. I’m fairly certain at least one of my cats is flashing a miniature switchblade at Chloe when I’m not looking.
I’ve tried everything I can think of to shoo the outside cat away, including banging pot lids together (which my neighbors love), and pelting her with a water gun (which makes me feel terrible). She’s driving my poor cats nuts and they, in turn, are driving me nuts.
Has anyone out there dealt with a similar situation? I’m wide open to ideas, though the must be humane because I’d sooner move into my garage for peace and quiet than hurt a kitteh.
So, that’s my problem. HALP?
(Dear god, I’ve become one of those crazy women who blogs about her cats.)
Posted by Lisa Hoover 
