"Warehouse One" is the story of one of our early trapping adventures.
We pull into the driveway to sift through the assortment of traps and carriers. We try to imagine every scenario that may present itself today. The little ones will be easy. However, the adult is cautious, this we know from a visit to the area on the previous day. Our equipment is loaded. Just one more stop to make for tuna, sardines, catnip. This is no picnic; this is a rescue mission.
Pulling into the parking lot of the deserted warehouse, we find several cars facing the channel. This is a common spot to watch the large container ships delivering their loads to the Port of Los Angeles. The visitors are locals and sightseers. There are maybe 8 or 10 cars, not enough to create a disturbance but enough not to feel so alone. This is a relief, as a large 100-year old warehouse looms behind us, suitable as a setting for any crime drama. Its early afternoon on a sunny day so that adds to the comfort of our surroundings.
Moving to the small patch of grass, well, tall tangled weeds, we find our prize. The weeds provide the perfect camouflage and protection for mama and her five babies however, the babies are friendly and made themselves known to a visitor the day before. These are not feral kittens, we know ferals. We suspect mama was dumped here, maybe when she was pregnant-- maybe because she was pregnant-- but she has done a fine job of caring for the brood. Scout, always the first kitten out, looks up with deep blue eyes surrounded by beautiful black fur. The eye color will change but the soul behind them will not. At just a few weeks old, her personality has already formed.
We prepare the food and hope for an easy capture. Maybe mom will just walk into the carrier to eat and we can close the door from a distance with the string that is secured in place. That turns out to be wishful thinking. This rescue will not be that easy. The babies are quickly collected and settle in for lunch. But for Mama, the trap is necessary. We load it with irresistible sardines and wait at a distance, watching in anticipation. She enters the trap. YES! But she never steps on the trip plate. NO! Was she too smart? Were we unlucky or unskilled? The sardines were not as enticing as we imagined, but the babies are. Mama wants her babies back!
We use the carrier full of kittens as the prize. We place them at the end of the covered trap. Mom will have to go in to get near them. She circles, studies, and examines the situation. She doesn’t trust us.
One of the challenges of rescue work is the audience. Often people realize what’s going on and want to provide words of thanks and encouragement and occasionally cash to help with food. Other times there are those who would poison or torture these little souls if given the chance. They make this work uncomfortable and even scary. Trapping is usually done in the evening or at night, when cats are more apt to be active, and the late hour influences the audience you get.
Today, supportive and curious onlookers approach us. Some also trying to offer advice. Three men and one woman in their twenties arrive and are immediately drawn to our unfolding drama. They are very friendly and interested, but in a delicate situation like this, it’s a deterrent to mama cat. Two of the young men are the most curious and eager to help, while the young woman seems annoyed by the distraction. So are we. The men offer suggestions, but although well-meaning, their suggestions are unrealistic. We gently try to persuade them to move on but are unsuccessful. We are left to hope that the frustrated young woman can draw them away. After 45 minutes, the small group departs. A sigh of relief and we return to our work.
After their lunch, I select one kitten at a time to examine more closely and place into a cardboard carrier. The first one, all alone, lets out a pitiful mew. This draws mom out of hiding and she slowly approaches the box. There are now three kittens for her to examine. She gets closer and we freeze. Mama leans over the edge of the box and we wait for her to jump in so Gina can close it, but she tries to grab one and run! Gina closes the lid and mama runs off. We stare in disbelief. So close! Mom returns with determination but we know we’ll get her this time. She reaches in to grab one of the babies, captures it by the ear, and runs off! Our hearts sink. What have we done?
We lost one of the babies and mama has disappeared. We’ve been here for hours and now we’re losing ground and losing hope of finding mama and the last kitten. I look for any sign of them, crawling through a broken fence to the abandoned yard next door but they are nowhere. As we start to pack up our gear, we discuss returning the next day, with the hope that mom will also return, but Gina isn’t giving up and she happens to do the best impression of a kitten crying. She starts to circle the small abandoned shed that has been at the center of this adventure all day and she calls with soft mews. Meanwhile, I discuss the events of the day with an older couple who have been watching us from their car the whole time. The gentleman reveals that they like to park here often to watch the ships in the channel but that today has been one of the most exciting days ever due to the show we’ve provided. It was full of suspense and excitement, elation and despair. Suddenly, Gina appears with the last kitten, her calls have worked!
We know mama now, and are sure she will do anything to protect her babies. So I select one of the kittens and place her in the cardboard box. I close it half way so mama can see in but baby cannot get out. We place the tiny treasure on the ground beneath a drop trap. This is a simple device, much like you’d see in a cartoon, a box with one side held up by a stick with a string attached to it. When the kitty goes under the box, you pull the string, from a distance, and the box drops down. It’s safe, harmless and the best option sometimes. The trap is set and I retreat as far as the string will allow while Gina walks in the opposite direction to load some supplies into her car. She doesn’t even make it to her car when she hears me yelling “We got her!”