When I moved into my new home, I didn’t expect to be greeted by whiskers and meows before the neighbors even said hello. But that’s exactly what happened. Before I had even unpacked my last box, a pair of curious green eyes peeked around my porch rail. Then another. And another.
Stray cats.
At first, I thought they were just passing through. A few snacks here and there, a warm spot on the porch, and maybe they’d move on. But no ! It quickly became clear that I had inherited a little feline community.
I’ve always had a soft spot for animals, and my heart just wouldn’t let me turn them away. I couldn’t ignore their hungry bellies, their cautious but hopeful eyes, or the quiet desperation of needing a safe space to rest.
But caring for animals isn’t cheap, especially when you’re living on a fixed income. Older individuals’ budgets don’t stretch like they used to and every dollar is accounted for. But that hasn’t stopped me from doing what I can.
I’ve started putting out food and water daily. It’s nothing fancy just a bit of dry food I find on sale and the occasional can of wet food when I catch a good deal. I repurposed an old tote with a cut-out door and a blanket to give them a bit of shelter on chilly nights. It’s not perfect, but it’s something.
The hardest part? Knowing this problem could have been prevented.
If more people spayed and neutered their pets, we wouldn’t have this endless cycle of homeless kittens. These cats didn’t choose this life. They didn’t ask to be born in the wild, to scavenge for scraps, or to brave the heat and cold without a place to call home. They’re just trying to survive — and now, so am I, trying to help them the best I can.
I’ve been reaching out to find low-cost clinics, and a few kind-hearted folks in the community have pointed me toward local programs and trap neuter return (TNR) services. Sadly, I haven’t had any luck so far with any help from any organization. There are so many stray cats in this little town that every no-kill facility I’ve contacted is already overwhelmed and no longer accepting new intakes. It’s discouraging, to say the least. Progress is slow, and some days it feels like I’m trying to bail out the ocean with a teacup, but even small efforts matter.
Some folks ask me, “Why bother? You’ve got enough to worry about.”
And maybe that’s true. But I believe kindness doesn’t have an age limit. Whether you’re nine or ninety, there’s always room to care and caring for these cats, as hard as it can be, fills my heart with purpose.
They don’t ask for much. A safe place. A bite to eat. A little understanding.
So, to anyone who’s reading this: please spay and neuter your pets. Visit your local shelter. Support low-cost clinics. Check on your neighbors who might be doing what I’m doing, quietly helping, quietly struggling.
Because this isn’t just a stray cat problem, it’s a community problem. And the only way to fix it is together.
If you’d like to lend a paw, there’s a donation option on my sidebar to help provide food for our neighborhood cats. Thanks to generous hearts like yours, these sweet furballs are getting the care they need one bite at a time as we continue hoping for support from resources that have yet to reach us.
In the meantime, I’ll keep caring for my furry porch family one pawprint and one bite at a time.
