Until 2005 I had a total of one cat in my life. He is a 12 years old mix, who had deeply embedded himself into our life.

Then in September of 2005 a recluse lady about a half mile down the road died.   She was in the house for more than a week before she was found.   The night she was discovered, I spoke with the corner and a deputy that discovered her.   They explained to me that there were dead cats everywhere, and a few live ones.

The following morning I grabbed a bag of my Carmello's cat food and went to the house.  Like I had been told, there were dead cats all around the house.   One small white kitten that could hardly stand was on the front porch.   I placed some dry food in front of him, but he could barely eat.   I then proceeded to collect the dead cats.  When I returned to the front porch it quickly became apparent that I didn't bring enough food.   There were no less than 25 cats that had come out of the woodwork to feed on that one small container of food.

That was the beginning of my adventure with a colony of what was mostly wild cats.   Since that day I have feed, watered and loved these cats every day.  In return they have given me about a hour a day of complete peace and well being, that I can not remember ever having before.

My routine went something like this.  Each day about mid morning I drive down the road to the old house to be greeted by this mass of fur running alongside my truck.  I feed from 5 large bowls and one large pan of water.   While they are eating I usually sit on the porch and drank a soft drink.   As each fur ball reaches their fill, they end up at my feet or in my lap.   And so it went, every day.   The routine changes a little with the weather, but not much.

After one feeding in December I was cold.   So I took off walking in a field adjacent to the house to get some sun.   After having walked about 30 yards, I turned around to see about 15 of these guys following me in the snow.   They were grouped close together to keep warm, but with my every step, almost like baby ducks following their mother.   I took that walk with the pack many more times that winter.   Strange as it seems, they came to expect it.

One has to remember that these cats were mostly wild.  I was the only human contact these cats ever saw.   One Christmas I had to go to a family function out of town. I asked a lady near me, who I new loved cats, to do the Christmas day feeding for me.   She agreed to do it.  On my return she told me I only had six cats our there.   The remaining 20, or so, had not come out of hiding.

This went on for two and one half years.   At that time the new owners of the house moved in with DOGs.  The cats scattered.   In an effort to regroup them I started putting out food at an old school bus that had been long abandoned across the road about 50 yards into the woods.   Eventually I lured all but five to the school bus.   It was devastating to me to lose the five, but I have continued feed the remainder,to this day.

The numbers have dwindled over the years.  I gave 22 of the kittens and some tame cats away.   Many kittens have been born and died or disappeared.   Seven of the kittens found their way to my home.  These days I still make my way to the old school bus every morning.   But only one young male remains this winter, with a few stragglers dropping in for a meal every now and then.   I would like to take this last male, Gray Boy, home with me, but my wife has drawn the line.

How long will I keep feeding these guys?   Until the last one is gone and no stragglers drop in.   I don't know how long that will be.   The seven that I have taken home have become a big part of our life.   But those guys that followed me around the field in the winter, and kept me company on the porch will be forever in my heart.   At a time in my life when I needed to slow down and smell the roses, these guys found me and I found them, and we smelled the roses.   What a joy.

Winston Rogers
December 15, 2008