Sunday, September 6, 2009

Cats Indoors

Let’s talk about cats being outdoors.

Obviously, I greatly value my outdoor time. I’m a curious guy, I love getting my paws wet or digging around in the substrate. Rain, sleet, snow, marshes, streams, high winds, baking sun…it all works for me. I admire the wonders of the world around me and look forward to visiting with frogs, seeing birds from afar, watching little mammals scurry about, and nosing around, learning about and admiring sedges, hedges, weeds and trees.

But here’s the hitch: I’m an indoor cat and I’m proud of it. When I go out, I go out with one or two of my people by my side. They don’t let me wander off, but they do let me set the pace and direction, within reason. This is a level of companionship to which most cats happily grow accustomed and come to enjoy. I’ve blogged on this before, but, while my species has been here on the continent for generations (our histories include narratives of cats moving across the Great Plains in large packs, though there is a curious absence of any mention of this in human annals), we are non-native and voracious land hunters – the “bluefish of the land”, as Boo once remarked.

If it moves, we see it, light or dark. If it is little, quivers, has fur or feathers…we have an instinctual urge to chase it, play with it, lick it, hold it in our mouths and, in some cases, kill it. For me, the urge usually passes…unless it is a mouse in the house. In this case, I do not play; I work swiftly. My cat pal Alex gets all quivery when she sees a bird. She swears, however, that all she wants to do it lick it, but we don’t test her on that.

There are, by reliable accounts, 60 million house cats in the United States and another 30 to 60 million feral cats (some of these are life-long “wanderers” – cats who truly never come in). Outdoors, that many of us can be devastating to local, ecologically relevant populations of birds, reptiles, and in some cases, small mammals.

We do not hide our predilections from humans. We warn you. We chitter, we creep…heck, we even bring the little wonders to you. Sometimes they are still alive. So don’t kid yourself that your cat wouldn’t do such a thing. It’s a rare feline that can control the urge if left outdoors on its own too long.

For goodness sake, don’t encourage feline regression! We’d really prefer to spend our time hanging with you, doing a little catnip, chasing paper wads, relaxing by the fire, yeowling for no apparent reason, reading a good book upside down, and maybe using the back of the couch as a vertical trampoline.

Long ago – sometime after the whole roaming the Great Plains in herds thing…or maybe back in ancient Egypt – we figured out that humans were the top predators and that those opposable thumbs and 25 lb. heads were going to catapult you to the top of the food chain over time, even though, as a species, you are riddled with contradictions. We adapted ourselves to be your companions…independent (just in case you all screw up entirely, we like to keep our fundamental hunter-gatherer skill set within reach), but very much tied to a human-defined domestic life.

So you moved us all around the world. And in every case, given our evolution, we do not belong in the wild. Putting us outside at night to “do what we do naturally” is a cop-out. We do it because we can, but we’d prefer a nice can of smelly eats or a little dried kibble and napping on your pillow while draped over your head, occasionally licking your eyeballs or sticking our paws up your nose for 5 AM entertainment.

Add to that, outside is dangerous. There are diseases, critters that can eat us, other cats we encounter – feral and not, healthy and sick, and cars to mow us down. And sometimes you wonder why we don’t come back… It’s sad really, because, we know you like us. I know most humans who let their cats go out unsupervised honestly believe they are doing right by their feline, or that the bad said cat might do (nabbing a warbler) is outweighed by the good (nailing a rodent). But you don’t get to choose which species survive and which don’t.

Finally, I know there are a few hard-core wanderers out there that aren’t going to come in. But many others will, with patience. My new cat pal and neighbor Ubu came in. He’s doing pretty good and seems happy.

But what’s a proud, furry cat supposed to do? Well, hopefully, get his or her people engaged in his life and needs. Say no to outdoor forays without your people…meow at them incessantly unless they come out with you, then give them lots of positive reinforcement. Humans, when you bring a cat into your home, don’t do it because you think we need less care than a dog or a goldfish or a ferret…we need just as much care and love…but every species and every individual in it has different needs. Yes, we are independent, but we still need you to mold your lives around us a bit.

You’re probably wondering what got me going on this topic. One of the blogs I admire, the Adirondack Almanack, recently posted a blog by the observant Ellen Rathbone, backing the cats indoors position. I posted a comment then, but this issue sticks like a burr in soft underbelly fur. I figured a few more good licks would help me move on.

If you want to read more about the cat outdoor/indoor controversy from a smart, balanced human perspective, our friend Ted Williams wrote a recent Audubon article on the subject. If you want to help the critters that unattended cats malign, support your local wildlife rehabilitator. (As an aside, my friend Marge Gibson in my home state has a great blog all about big bird rehabilitation.) If you want to help cats find homes in general, support the very nice people at the North Country SPCA. Tell them Diesel sent you.