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Chapter 27. The Wild Ride of Maspeth
Following the chaotic Memorial weekend of 1994 and the positive media coverage of the Maspeth cats, I was reasonably confident that we would get funding to vet and neuter the cats. Now, the huge task lay before us to capture the cats, medically treat them, find fosters and later adopters. The project was overwhelming for a small group like New Yorkers for Companion Animals .
My daughter, Tara agreed to attend to my mother, my mom's apartment and her pets, as well as to help with the in-home care of our own animals and new fosters. Anita, who worked as a flight attendant, fortunately had quite a bit of free time and was available to help me capture the cats. Laura's car became indispensable insofar as transport and getting the rescued cats to Dr. Peterson, my vet located in East Harlem. A few other people, including Anita's boyfriend, Tony, volunteered to foster cats.
The coverage of CBS sparked further interest and coverage from the local NY TV station, "New York One ." Reporter, Elizabeth Kalledin met Anita, Laura and me Tuesday afternoon as we picked up several tame female cats from outside the dilapidated house. The camera rolled as we stuffed cats into small kennel cabs, while other felines lounged upon the high and broken cement steps leading up to the ragged property. Once again, an interesting, if not slightly chaotic picture.
Kalledin interviewed Anita and me and then added her own commentary to the dreary situation. She also interviewed Roger Caras, then Director of the ASPCA. I couldn't help but laugh later when seeing the report. Caras said the ASPCA had been to the site, but "saw no cats!"
Cats were literally everywhere, including some remaining in the boarded up house!
Laura took one of the very pregnant cats and I brought home the one which looked like she wasn't too far along. I made a spay appointment for "Coca" the following Monday. Meanwhile, other volunteers took 3 moms and litters of half grown kittens. Dr. Peterson was up to his eyeballs with all the new cats coming in for shots, testing and spays.
If I was encouraged and excited with the new rush of rescues and financial and other support to help the cats, I was far less excited with the now daily trips to Maspeth. In fact, they were downright depressing.
Maspeth was a fast changing community which served as home to mostly new immigrants from depressed parts of the world. Many of the residents didn't speak English and the treatment of pets generally was deplorable. It was common to see large mixed breed dogs chained up in backyards with crumbling dog houses serving as "shelter," and only the bare minimum in food and other care. Stray cats and dogs were running loose all over Maspeth and it was impossible to tell which of the cats hanging outside the crumbling house actually had belonged to the former residents. Some of the cats were friendly and came right up to us. But, it was obvious we were going to have to use humane traps to get many of the skittish or possibly even feral cats. It was a hard situation to get a real handle on. Most of the cats were poorly socialized, thin and suffering from all kinds of parasites. While we were lucky that none had Leukemia, their treatable medical issues were considerable.
To add to my woes, "Coca," the (I thought) "not too far along" pregnant cat I had planned to have spayed the following Monday gave birth to two kittens over the next weekend. Coca would win no "mother of the year" awards.
"Coca, The Reluctant Mother"
Tara called my attention to the small tortie cat that Saturday evening. "Mom, that cat is acting very strange. Walking around, looking very anxious. Do you think she is going to have the kittens tonight?" "Oh, God, how should I know, Tara?" I said, while observing the cat indeed, acting weird and looking wild-eyed. "Maybe we should prepare some kind of box with towels, just in case." Damn, I thought. We don't need this! We fixed up a roomy cardboard box in a quiet part of the bedroom and put Coca in it. But, she immediately jumped out and started pacing around the apartment again. She walked across the living room floor, when in horror, I noticed part of what seemed a little head covered in gook, trying to pop out from her vaginal area. Then it disappeared again. "Good grief!" I shrieked to Tara. "Lets get her back in the box!"
Coca seemed to be oblivious to the fact she was in labor. Once again, she jumped out of the box and walked around the apartment. She was obviously going to choose her own place or simply drop the kittens on the floor! The pacing went on for some time, when incredibly, both Tara and I fell asleep.
When I awoke some hours later, I frantically looked for Coca.
I found her tucked behind my entertainment center with two little blobs in front of her. I recoiled once again in horror. Oh my God, the kittens are deformed, I thought! Their livers or some other organ is outside their bodies! How are they living? "Tara, Tara, wake up! Come see this. Oh my God!"
Tara got out of bed and came into the living room half asleep. She looked at the kittens. "Oh, Mom," she said half with annoyance and half amusement. "That's not the liver! Its the placenta. We are going to have to remove it and cut the umbilical cords." "Isn't the mother supposed to do that ?" I asked anxiously. "Yea, Mom, but obviously, Coco isn't doing it! Get some scissors and sterilize them. Hurry!"
I got the scissors but let Tara do the dirty work. This was just too much for me to deal with! I had never seen living animals with placentas and umbilical cords attached to them before. Somehow Tara was more at ease with the situation and handled it like a pro. Thank goodness!
Once the kittens were cleaned up, Coco reluctantly got down to nursing them. They were two little boys. One black and white and one orange. As soon as she nursed the kittens for a short while, Coco got up, left them and went to eat some cat food. "I read that mother cats always stay with their kittens for the first 24 hours without leaving them," I said to Tara, concerned. "Well, Mom, Coca doesn't seem to be like most cat mothers, " Tara answered matter of factly.
And indeed, Coco wasn't like most cat mothers at all.
While she accepted us moving her and her kittens to the towel lined cardboard box, Coca only stayed with her kittens for very brief moments of time -- just enough to nurse them. She didn't clean them and couldn't seemingly wait to get away from them. By the time her kittens, Inky and Sunset were 5 weeks-old, Coca wanted no part of them at all. She pushed away and batted them when they dared to come near her.
I couldn't wait to get Coca spayed and as soon as she was, we adopted her out as a "one and only cat." Her kittens, once old enough were easy placements. Coco was one cat who would never miss the "joy of motherhood again." Once was too much for her!
Meanwhile, it took the better part of 1994 to finally round up the Maspeth cats, vet, treat and socialize, foster out and find adoptive homes for most of them. The last remaining cat, "Pinto, a big black and white semi-feral tom, kept me coming back to Maspeth an additional 5 or 6 times. So smart and wary was he, Pinto avoided carriers with chicken, humane traps and every trick in the book to capture him. I finally had to borrow a net from another rescuer and one warm evening in July, Laura and I got him in the net. I jumped in celebration. Not only for finally getting the last cat, but for the realization that I would never have to go back to Maspeth again!
The project entailed thousands of hours in time, all of the $6,000 in donations and netted Tara and me an additional four "unadoptable" cats to keep, Pinto being one of them.
I would think long and hard before ever calling the media again on a project. The financial support was worth it, but the bulk of the work and fostering fell on us. Maspeth had turned out to be one hell of a wild and all consuming ride. Tara and I literally had no summer to speak of, other than round the clock work. Meanwhile, my name and number were now "out there" as someone to call on animal problems.
Maspeth: one hell of a wild ride.