They work in darkness, among the dustbins, ruined rotting buildings, in the rain, in drains.
Many don’t like people that much. But they sure do love cats!
These are the cat custodians of East London — most of them women.
You will find them wherever feral cats colonies set up. They in all our towns, on the margins of our faded, crumbling democracy.
Feral cats — an estimated 100,000 of them in Buffalo City — are their mission.
And though there appears to be an indifferent official silence — questions on policy sent to city spokesperson Sam Ngwenya received no reply after five days — these women and a few men know that there is a huge animal welfare crisis in the metro and country.
Don’t try to stop them, both the cats and the activists. It seems that feral behaviour rubs off. You will get scratched, metaphorically speaking and physically.
But support them and there is an unlimited capacity for love and affection, say the cat guardians.
The crisis feels unsurmountable, but organisations such as Furever Fixed and Hilltop Animal Outreach said there was an underground network working in many areas, such as in Gonubie, though those cat activists seemed to stay underground and did not respond to queries.
Just know that they are out there, seems to be the message.
Thoughtless, uncaring, callous, even evil human behaviour is the cause of the problem, but cat reproductive biology is also a major issue.
People abandon cats, often pregnant, when they leave an area or because they don’t want them. That’s where the problem starts.
All it takes is one unsterilised cat, and the problem gets going — litters of up to seven cats twice a year or even every few months.
It sounds unsurmountable, but the cat activists have long advocated a strategy of “TNR” — trap, neuter and return. This avoids the “vacuum” effect of creating spaces which will be filled.
Signs of success are seen at Frere Hospital, where numbers have dropped from 180 to 30, and in Makhanda, formerly Grahamstown, where a lone campaigner for 30 years, Lorna Grant, has seen the movement grow and feral cat numbers stabilise and decline.
Trapping is no easy task, and one activist, Sam van Wyk, legendary administrator in the Daily Dispatch newsroom, who had her arms shredded trying to get one of her loved little Orient feral cat family into the trap, said: “It’s a real drama!”
Strategies towards cat colonies vary, but the message is clear. Do no harm, let them be. They are meticulously clean creatures, can keep rats away, and their presence is calming and charming.
But activists are very strict about people who simper but lack backbone.
Those who feed and walk away become part of the problem because a better-fed, healthier feral cat colony breeds faster, and now that is your fault.
If you feed, you are regarded as having joined the feral community and activists insist that you must sterilise and play a responsible custodian role in helping with cat health, keeping those who will harm them at bay and protecting their right to a peaceful life. Those are the rules born out of experience.
It is hugely rewarding, and a cat or two might even come to rub against your shins, let your stroke them, or they can become a business mascot, such as a cat down at the harbour who is there to greet ocean tourists.
And don’t think you can run off to the SPCA and make it their problem. Feral cats are difficult to rehome, and the overwhelmed, under-resourced animal welfare society will try its best, but if there is no viable hope, then the cats might have to be euthanised.
Off Track has delved into this underground world and it’s best to let the organisations speak for themselves in this Crazy Cat Lady set of stories.
Daily Dispatch
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