Meet the O’Ferals


These are the little guys I take care of. Or shall I say, little girls. There are a total of four of them – mama Pretty (the one licking her lips) daughters, Buffy (the buff colored one) and Gonzo (the other one). Not pictured is Tangerine (she’s another story).


I’ve been taking care of this feral family ever since Pretty was a kitten. They have all been trapped, neutered and vaccinated. Taking care of ferals is an interesting exercise in non-attachment. You feed them, you try to provide good conditions for them, and in return they allow you within only a few feet of them before they flee. No snuggles, no purrs, no head butts. Just tolerance. Which is not to say, there isn’t attachment. When one of my girls doesn’t show up for meal time for a couple of days in a row, I start to worry. If it over three days, I start to mourn. And then when they show up again, I’m downright giddy. Ah, the joys of the untrained mind.


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