Remembering BNK on #caturday

We've always had the occasional stray cat to wander through the neighborhood. One will appear every day for a few weeks or a few months, then we don't see it again. I always wonder if it moved on to another area, looking for better conditions, whether someone gave it a home, or whether it met some sad demise while homeless and fending for itself.

My heart goes out to any creature that is suffering, whether human or otherwise. I learned a long time ago, however, that we should do what good we can, but that one person cannot alleviate all the suffering. It would not have been wise, nor economically feasible, to put food out for all the cats that wandered through the property over the years. Doing so also provides incentive for them to stay close at hand.

Several years ago, a little gray, tabby cat wandered through the yard. She appeared to be gentle, sweet, and never caused any trouble. I actually enjoyed watching her walk through the yard, moreso than most other stray cats. She was quite skittish, though, and didn't come close. When she walked by me, she kept quite a bit of distance between us and frequently turned her head to ensure that I had not advanced her towards her.

In the above B&W photo, she is sitting in the yard and turning her head to look at me in a normal manner. However, when she wasn't sitting upright, she always turned her head in a rather odd way... If you have ever woken with a "crink" in your neck, where you feel a soreness that extends down into your shoulder, you probably remember that you cannot turn your head directly to the side — when you try, your head has to slightly tilt as it turns. Furthermore, you can't turn you head very far, and have to turn your entire upper body slightly to effectively look in that direction. That is almost how it looked when she turned her head while standing or walking. It made it appear (at least to me) that her neck had been injured at some point in her life, perhaps in a fight with another stay cat. So, I began to refer to her as the "Broke Neck Kitty" when I spoke of her to anyone else.

My mother's family had a dog on the farm where she was raised, as well as mules and other animals, but she never wanted any animals around after she and my father married. My father was not fond of the idea of having animals, either, so we never had a dog or cat when I was a child. Whenever stray cats or dogs came into the yard, one of my parents would often go to the door, stomp their feet, clap their hands once or twice, and yell to urge the animal to journey onward so it would not attempt to stay. My mother had Alzheimer's Syndrome during her last years; we cared for her at home as long as we could, but she eventually had to be placed in a Skilled Nursing Facility nearby. So, it was just my father and me (serving as his caregiver) during the years the Broke Neck Kitty was here. I spoke so fondly of her and enjoyed watching for her each day that my father never attempted to scare her away.

My father lost his eyesight due to Pseudoxanthoma Elasticum and was legally-blind with only about 1% of his vision remaining. So, even if I could have convinced him to let us give the Broke Neck Kitty a safe and happy home, its presence indoors would have been a serious tripping hazard for my already compromised father. So, she was definitely going to have to stay outside.

One cold winter day, I saw her ambling through the yard and wondered if she'd found anything to eat that day. Despite my father's protestations, I put a little food out for her. I don't even remember now what that first meal was, whether it was a bit of chicken or something else. But, I knew it would nourish her if she would eat, and it would help to keep her body-heat to a safe level. She didn't go near the plate until I left it outside and returned indoors, and only then approached it slowly and carefully. But, she ate, and seemed to be quite hungry, too. It did my heart good to see her eating and enjoying the food. Not long after she finished, she wandered out of the yard to another destination.

After that first meal, I frequently put food out for her. I always waited, though, to see her come into the yard and then scrambled to get something out there before she left, as I didn't want to be feeding other strays, raccoons, or anything besides her. Sometimes I wasn't fast enough, and she disappeared before I could get the food out there, but most of the time it worked. She always seemed grateful for everything I gave her, whether it was a saucer of milk, some tuna, chicken, or beef. I finally bought a box of tinned cat food and kept that on-hand for when leftovers weren't available.

As time passed, she eventually became accustomed to me and trust began to develop. I could never walk towards her, even slowly, without her running away. One day, however, I was sitting outside and she came almost within arm's reach, but not quite. I reached out my hand and leaned slightly in her direction to pet her, but she darted away right before my hand touched her. So, we made progress, even though we never physically connected.

One morning, I stepped outside to find her sleeping on top of my car. I suppose she felt safe up there and warm from the sun. I managed to grab a photo without disturbing her and think it is a very precious shot!

And then one day she did not wander through the yard, nor the next day, nor the one after that. I kept watch for a whole week or two, hoping to see her again, but she never returned. I was heart-broken and never discovered what happened to her. It is my hope, however, that she was taken-in by some kind soul rather than becoming a meal for some wild animal or being hit by a vehicle. I don't even remember exactly how long she was a fixture in our neighborhood, but I think it was the better part of two years. And if she had still been around when my father passed-away, I would definitely have made a more concerted effort to get her to trust me and brought her indoors if she would come. Here is thinking of you, dear Broke Neck Kitty, wherever you are... 😥