You may or may not know that I have two adorable Pomeranians. They are the sweetest and smartest dogs I know. I may be biased, but they’re my fur babies and I’m allowed to be. They are quiet little creatures that ask for very little. We go on hikes, they get supplements, we give them a lot of snuggle time and always shower them with love. They are good boys. Yes, they are good boys until…the ferals come into view.
Our ferals have been with us now for months. They hang out in our yard, lie on our decks, and stalk mice in our bushes. The Nuggets (my name for both Poms) know this. I know they know this. It doesn’t matter. As soon as they see any of the cats they lose their little dog minds. They bark, and run around, and scratch the couch, then bark some more.
The ferals were scared at first. They thought these angry dogs were about to be unleashed on them. So, anytime they heard the Nuggets, they ran like the wind. Now, they saunter slowly through the yard and flip the dogs off with their tails. They really do. I speak cat. I know this.
Here is the unfortunate part. I can’t tell the difference between Grady taking a stroll through the front yard or a murderer brandishing an ax coming up the side stairs. The barks and the behavior are the same. Have you heard the sounds that little dogs make when someone is in their territory? To say it’s annoying is not properly giving it the credit it deserves. So, I have to get up each time to check things out and remind the Nuggets that the ferals are not trying to kill us and take their rightful place in the house.
In future posts, I will talk about all of the shenanigans that my ferals do. I’ll go into detail about how they climb trees and look in our windows, sit on our deck banisters and stare down the Nuggets, and chase flocks of turkeys. For this post, I wanted to share what the ferals do to the other animals in our lives.
And so it will continue many, many times a week. I will see the cats mess with the dogs and I will hear the dogs bark at the intruders. I’m just glad it’s never that ax murderer.
It’s been a few months now and the ferals are settling in. We’re all getting used to each other. They’re getting used to me feeding them every morning and night. I’m getting used to them resenting me and possibly planning a revolt.
The shed is all theirs for now. They have an insulated cubie that is packed with straw. We also created a loft for them. Cory laid plywood down across the shed rafters and layered it with straw. They have two entry points with ramps leading out to the woods. I give them a fresh supply of water and dry food every morning and wet food every night. They are living the good life despite what they think.
I don’t see them much and I can’t really tell them apart when I do see them. I get so happy, though, when I spot them out and about. We put the game cam in the shed so we can get a better understanding of their patterns. Like all cats, they are crepuscular. They are active during the day and night. The game cam shows just that. They are very active during certain times and there are large stretches of time where the game cam stands silent. I can only assume they are sleeping off camera somewhere or plotting against me. I’m sorry but I can’t rule that out yet.
Maisie has not returned. I was afraid that might happen. She wasn’t trapped with her father and sister. She didn’t recuperate after surgery with them. She didn’t spend a lot of time in the shed with them when it was locked. She came to us a few days after the lock down began. The family bond may be broken. I hope she’s alright and my thoughts go to her daily. There are plenty of houses with outdoor cats so I can only hope she’s getting food and water somewhere.
To sum up, all is well and the routine has been set. What could possibly go wrong?