My Accidental Feral Cat Career

 


My Accidental Feral Cat Career

I was never a cat person. Not even a little bit.

And yet… here we are.

It started in May 2025 when I discovered Mama Kitty living under my deck. She didn’t ask permission. She didn’t sign a lease. She simply moved in and brought children.

At first it was just her. Then Spot appeared — one of her four babies. Four. Under my deck. Without consulting management.

I named them Mama Kitty, Spot, Stripe, Boo, and Heartley, because apparently once you name them, you legally become responsible for them. That’s how it works, right?

Thus began my unpaid internship as Director of Backyard Operations.

Watching the kittens grow was pure joy. Tiny paws. Wobbly legs. Chaos at sunset. They turned my peaceful backyard into a WWE wrestling arena with fur. I’d sit and watch them like it was prime-time television. Better than streaming. Five stars. Would recommend.

Then Mama Kitty disappeared.

She left her teenage children with me like, “You got this.” She’d pop back in occasionally to eat, glance at her offspring like a tired mom at soccer practice, and then vanish again.

And then I noticed it.

The belly.

“Oh no,” I said to absolutely no one. “We are not doing this again.”

I had requested help getting her spayed. Help did not arrive. The universe said, “Surprise!”

Then she disappeared completely. Two whole weeks. When she finally reappeared, the belly was gone.

And what did I do?

I told her, “Go get those babies.”

As if she understood English.
As if she had a calendar.
As if I wasn’t already overwhelmed.

Every day she’d show up, inhale food like she had a train to catch, scan the perimeter, and bolt off the deck like it was actively on fire.

This went on for a while.

Then one day I saw something tiny streak across the deck.

Three. Tiny. Black. Kittens.

So now I had Mama Kitty, the original four, AND three bonus voids. Apparently my deck is a maternity ward.

Eventually Mama Kitty and the three little soot sprites were rehomed (bless whoever signed up for that). And I was left with the original crew: Heartley, Stripe, Spot — now known as Junior — and Boo, now called Sweet Boi, because obviously he needed a rebrand.

They come and go as they please, because they are feral and do not recognize authority. If they miss a meal, I spiral. If they’re gone for two days, I assume coyotes, aliens, or a secret double life.

I was not built for this.

I did not apply for this.

But somewhere along the way, these little freeloaders stole my heart.

I may not have been a cat person…

…but apparently I’m a colony manager now.

And management is tired.