Where Did You Come From?

Over the past few weeks, a gray and white ferrel cat has been stalking around the neighborhood and is under the false impression that my backyard is his personal toilet and hunting grounds.  When my young bride saw him laying in her flower bed, she was preparing to snap a knot in his furry ass that would take a dozen boy scouts to untie when he leaped over the fence and was off like a pair of dirty underwear.  All of a sudden the ground begins to tremble and the doves began fluttering away with a mighty swoosh to the harsh sound of "Jim!  Get out the trap and catch that little shit before he tears up anymore of my plants.  I want him out of here ricky tick toot sweet."  I'm not going to tell my wife no....she's got a pair of sharp pruning shears in her hand. I didn't get off the banana boat yesterday.  Duh!!!

So, I set the trap....used cat food for bait....and low and behold, I've trapped an adult female raccoon! I was very surprised to see this little beauty, because I normally catch them with marshmallows; peanut butter and just a touch of pancake syrup to top it off.  Raccoon's and possums have one helluva sweet tooth.  I never use cat food as bait unless I'm specifically trying to catch a ferrel cat, because it usually brings a lower class of critter to my trap.  I do have a reputation to uphold.

Since my granddaughter is normally the one who supplies me the names for my critters, and she was in school at the time, I chose the name Senora Mapache Raquel and translates loosely to Miss Raquel the Raccoon.  And just so you'll know, all of her Facebook BFF's call her "Raq"...no need for formality with this bunch.  They all speak the same language in which each sentence begins with the word "like" and they constantly interrupt each other before finishing a sentence.  I would rather gargle with paint thinner while standing on a bed of hot coals than having to listen to all the Facebook jargon.  It's deadly!

OK, up to this point I've not been successful in trapping my initial target...gray and white ferrel cat.  I'm not one to give up quickly, so once again I bait my trap with cat food and wait to see what, if anything is captured.

Oh gosh all hemlock!  Geewilikers Batman, how could this free spirited animal possibly get into my backyard and into the trap?  Maybe it was raised by gypsy's, lived in a dysfunctional family, did time in the state penitentiary, its' father abandoned the family and joined the merchant marines, or was forced to live on the streets.  I suspect the owner of this fine feline specimen, which I nicknamed Zorro, is in the habit of letting the cat outside at night to roam the neighborhood and do what Mother Nature has taught his species to do.  Before I go any further, I live two blocks from an extremely large city park that is called home by a family of grey fox and at least three, possibly more, coyotes.  Small animals such as Zorro are prime candidates for these carnivorous animals and they ARE coming into my neighborhood catching small dogs, cats and chickens to eat.  And as more and more ranch land is being sold to developers to build homes, these wild animals are being forced to enter the city to find food.  And what few cats I've trapped, I'm not taking them to the city pound or the ASPCA because they'll be euthanized, so in a round about way I'm actually saving their lives.  And as for the owners, if ignorance was dirt they would have enough to cover about an acre. And before I forget, I will never ever intentionally hurt any animal - the pet owners on the other hand...they're fair game!  You ever look at someone and wonder who ties their shoes?

It's obvious to the most casual observer that Zorro has never had to hone his survival skills, so leaving him at my usual Refugee Camp For Wayward Critters is not going to work.  Getting him a job with a traveling circus is out of the question, he doesn't have the computer skills to work in a call center, with his anger management issues, the nursing home industry is a big time no-no and joining the Navy is absolutely out of the question...he is terrified of the water.

So the question begs answering: Where do I take a male cat that has spent his entire life being pampered, sleeping indoors, an endless supply of food and water, has no clue what a predator is unless you count the vacuum cleaner and has never been disciplined for his destructive ways?  I know just the place!  I put Zorro in the back of my truck and off we go for the southeast side of town where he will absolutely have full access to all the necessities he'll require.  However, his "new territory" is going to have a few twists that he is unfamiliar with, but hey, he'll figure it out.  Those keen cat like survival skills will kick in and then Wham-O!  He will be king once again!!!

After a short 30-minute ride, Zorro and I arrived at our destination.  A quaint spot where there is very little truck or car traffic, an abundance of older homes that are filled with young families, no coyotes or fox -- that I know of and plenty of yards to explore.  There is one slight, ever so slight, draw back to Zorro's new location.....nobody speaks English....only Espanol!  I thought this would be Zorro's golden opportunity to expand his horizons, learn a new language and custom, meet new people and establish new relations.  Adios muchacho! Via Con Dios!