I grew up in a household where my parents and relatives fished. They’d fish from the beach or a pier, or sometimes from my uncle’s boat. The big thing about fishing was patience. You could spend hours without a nibble, and sometimes when the water was clear and calm enough, you’d helplessly watch the fish swimming by your lonely looking hook. As if to make up for those hours spent swatting away beach flies and mosquitoes, there were other times when a school of fish would be passing and you’d reach your limit in fifteen minutes.

Last night I came to realize that while I don’t fish for fish, I’ve just started fishing for cats. What, fishing for cats? No hooks involved, no harm to the animal, but an opportunity to improve the cat’s life. Huh?

Since I’ve gotten involved with Bobbi and the Strays I’ve done many different things—helped at adoption events and fundraisers, fostered dogs, transported sick animals, raised kittens, and become the voice of the dogs and cats in the Guardian Program, but now I’ve gotten involved with something else—TNR.

TNR stands for Trap, Neuter, Release, a very important effort to help reduce the number of unwanted kittens born on the streets each year. This kitten season my family has cared for, raised and socialized 11 kittens, seven of them from my own community driveway.

After talking to Debbie (another Bobbi volunteer), who has been helping more cats and kittens over the years than she can probably remember, she made it her mission to help control the breeding population in my driveway. Last month we were able to get a male and female sterilized, and today (7/3) three more will be taken care of.

I helped carry traps and observed what Debbie had done on both of these occasions, and was surprised that we had gotten two cats on each occasion in an hour. But this time we still had one trap that remained empty. Some cats would walk by, sniff, try to get at the food through the back of the trap, and walk away. Others would just totally ignore it, continuing their stroll down the driveway.

We tried something different this time after getting permission from a neighbor to place the trap in her yard. We left one set up overnight. It was empty in the morning, so I spoke to another neighbor whose yard is frequented by cats, even though she doesn’t feed them, but she doesn’t use her backyard very much, so they have a comfortable place to relax.

As soon as I set the trap down and walked away, two orange cats appeared, sniffing, examining, and refusing to step inside.

And so the day went…

Between the violent rainstorms I retrieved the trap in the evening, re-baited it, relocated it to another spot in the driveway and settled down in my van to wait.

One cat after another appeared in the driveway. I’d hold my breath as they’d sniff, walk half way inside, eat the bits of cat food that would lead them to more food, hopefully causing them to step on the trigger, and then back out again.

That’s when it hit me. I was “cat fishing.” I had set my trap, and now had to wait patiently, motionlessly, silently in the car in the dark, hoping that one of the cats would take the bait, trip the door and be caught. The connection to fishing clicked in my mind and I no longer felt ridiculous sitting there in the dark hoping that a mosquito hadn’t flown inside waiting to turn me into a meal. Now it was all about patience.

I continued to watch different cats circle the bait, and waited and waited and waited. Finally one tripped the trigger, the door came down and I had captured my first cat.

Thankfully Debbie is the most patient of people and even though it was late, I was able to bring the cat to her home so that it could spend the night in a safe place and have its surgery this morning.

Debbie is fantastic, spending what little free time she has “cat fishing,” caring for the captured cats in her home pre and post surgery, transporting them to and from the trap sites and to their surgeries, and in general, doing everything she can to try to make the lives of feral cats easier, which includes their not having to try to raise the next generation of feral kittens.

Hats off to you Debbie—great job—you’re making quite a difference in the world!