| 
|
Chapter 36. "Take Away the Cats and You Get Rats!"
I had completed the rescue projects on East 108th and 109th Streets by the summer of '95. I knew all the cats from the "hole" of the abandoned building had been removed when, a couple of weeks later, returning to check on the site, I noted a number of rats running around the area. Small wonder a few of the residents on the block admonished me for taking all the cats. "We need them for the rats!" was something I heard more than once. As matters turned out, the people were right. "Take the cats away and you get rats." It seemed to be a basic law in nature that I would later inform other people about who deal with similar situations. It ain't always good to fool with mother nature!
About a year later, the building on 108th Street was finally cleaned up and renovated. The cats would have had to "go" in any case. I don't know if they were ever successful in getting rid of the rats. Knowing the problems in New York City, probably not.
Most of the cats rescued from the sites became friendly with a little socialization and were adopted out following neutering and vetting. But a few were either feral or too skittish to adopt out and those were the cats which still remained with me. There were many memorable rescues from these two locations. But, perhaps the most was a tiny Maine Coon kitten, rescued on a bitterly cold night in late December of 1993. The rescue of "Manfred" was one I would never forget.
The snow had come too late for Christmas Eve in 1993. But, the little that arrived a couple of days later, left a slippery, icy sheet upon the ground. The temperatures fell to the low 20's at night. Walking to 108th Street to leave food for the "cats in the hole" was something I didn't relish, but nevertheless felt obligation to. Particularly in bitter cold weather, the cats had to be well fed.
It was around 10PM when I bundled up and packed cat food in my Sherpa Bag. While not anticipating hanging around or doing any "rescues" that evening, one nevertheless, always has to be prepared for the unexpected.
And the unexpected occurred that evening.
It was slow going navigating the freezing slush and ice on the sidewalks. Bitter winds cut my face and seemed to freeze my hands, even through the thick gloves.
By the time, I finally arrived, shivering, to the outside of the abandoned building on 108th Street, my only wish was to quickly plop the cat food down near the "hole" and leave. I didn't intend to wait around for the cats to come outside and feed.
But, no sooner had I laid the food down, when, out of the blackness of the hole, meowing loudly, climbed up, the most beautiful kitten I had ever seen!
I had never seen the animal before. The kitten was a magnificent, super friendly, sparkling clean, black and white ball of fluff. He rolled right into my arms.
It was obvious that the kitten had not been born in the hole, but rather, was a very recent "dump." I could not believe that anyone could be so cruel as to abandon a tiny, defenseless animal to a filthy basement hole, on one of the most frigid nights of the year. It was beyond all comprehension!
I immediately placed the beautiful, trembling kitten in my Sherpa bag. "Don't worry, honey, you are not going to have to stay here." As I began to leave, I noted the other bigger and street-wisened cats of the hole, emerging from the darkness to quickly grab the food and disappear back. It was not a night fit for either human or beast.
I named the purebred, Maine Coon kitten, "Manfred" after the rock group, Manfred Mann of "Come on without, come on within, you won't see nothing like the Mighty Quinn" fame. The next day I took him to Dr. Peterson for exam and vetting. The kitten was healthy, extremely loving and outgoing and abandoned two days following Christmas.
Manfred apparently was an unwanted "Christmas present."
But, he was also one of the quickest rescue/placements we ever had. By New Year's of 1994, Manfred already had a loving, caring and responsible home.
But, the "lesson" of Manfred's abandonment and rescue would stay with me for many years. No way would I ever adopt out an animal as a "Christmas or birthday present" for someone. If one doesn't like a blouse or tie given at Christmas, one can always return it to the store, stick it in a drawer or recycle to a friend. But, for too many animals given as "presents," the ultimate destination is the pound or the streets.
"Take away the cats and you get rats?"
Yes, but one wonders sometimes, how did the cats get there in the first place?
How many "stray" cats are actually someone's unwanted gift?