Worthy Claws : Orphanage Always Has Room for One More Cat

When Tessie Haire moved to Texas last fall after her husband died, she took all her possessions with her except the ones she valued most--her seven cats.

Not only was she afraid the pets would not adjust to their new surroundings, she knew most of her relatives there were allergic to cats. Little chance they’d want to visit her and subject themselves to a bout of sneezing.

Luckily, her husband had provided as well for the cats as he had for his wife. So, on the way to her new home in Ft. Worth, Haire dropped off her cats at their new retirement digs in Spring Valley.

“It was the greatest relief imaginable,” said the 72-year-old widow, who had cared for the cats since she and her husband rescued seven kittens and their mother from a vacant lot in 1977. “It was wonderful to have a place to take them instead of putting them all to sleep.”

Place to Call Home

What? A kitty condo complex for aging felines? Is this the latest trend in animal care--a la orthodontics for dogs and therapy for depressed pets?

The 21-year-old National Cat Protection Society, located at the end of a rutted dirt road in rural Spring Valley, is hardly a trendy cat house. The compound of concrete-block buildings surrounded by Cyclone fences houses about 225 stray and abandoned cats, including 60 permanent residents--felines whose owners have died or can no longer care for them.

As an alternative to putting orphaned cats to death, the National Cat Protection Service offers them a pleasant, permanent home. “No Cat Is Ever Turned Away,” says a wooden sign tacked on a fence near the parking lot. For a donation of $350, the society will feed, house and protect the cat for the rest of its life.

The society opened its doors here in April, 1975. It’s original compound in Long Beach has been operating since July, 1968, said society publicist Gerri Calore. Her husband, Richard, established the society to offer both a home for abandoned felines and a formal protection network for all cats. He died in 1987, and Calore, along with the society’s board, continue his work.

Calore, a former humane officer from Florida, was concerned that even though many legal protections existed for dogs, none existed for cats. Most states classify cats as wild, migratory animals, rather than domestic pets, and thus they enjoy none of the protections afforded to dogs. The society was successful in helping pass a California law that halted the use of decompression chambers and electric shock for putting cats to sleep. Now, only injections are used, Calore said.

The society prints a quarterly publication, Feline Defenders, which is devoted to keeping cat lovers abreast of issues affecting felines, such as breeding control and vivisection.

20,000 Society Members

The society has attracted 20,000 members nationwide since its inception 21 years ago, though its only adoption centers are in Long Beach and Spring Valley. The nonprofit organization depends on donations to feed and care for its charges. Expenses include buying 25 cases of moist cat food and 4 tons of kitty litter every month.

The center sticks staunchly to its credo of accepting any cat, whether or not the owner can pay for its housing. Many of the cats taken to the center are adopted once they have been spayed or neutered. The society asks for a $10 donation for neutering, and $15 for spaying. During summer, at the height of “kitten season,” the center takes in as many as 100 kittens a day. During the year it places about 2,000 felines, young and old.

Like the non-permanent residents, cats living in the retirement home get lots of attention from society volunteers, many of whom visit daily to help with chores and play with the residents.

“The night before I come to see the cats, I just can’t sleep,” said Maureen Grega, a volunteer who commutes from Allied Gardens to Spring Valley three times a week. “It’s so exciting to come and play with them, especially when you get to know their personalities.”

Perhaps more than other volunteers, Grega looks forward to visiting the cat compound because her own cats died last year.

Cats Come Running

As she and another volunteer, 15-year-old Mark Hoch, approached the large, airy retirement compound, several of the lounging cats got up and padded over to greet them. “Sometimes I’ve seen 40 or 50 cats come running. They think you’ve got food,” Grega said. Other cats sprawl in the shade on carpet-covered boards attached to the outside walls of the building.

“When they’re all up on these shelves, it looks so decorative,” said Marcia Stewart, the compound manager. Other cats sit on perches, or, like a shy beige cat named Monkey, hide in carpeted cat condos--small cylinders attached to poles that allow the cats to peer out while feeling hidden and protected.

Monkey belonged to Clifton Drake before he and his wife moved to a mobile home in a retirement park in Lakeside. The park’s rules prohibit outdoor pets, and both Monkey and Pete, Drake’s other cat, were back-yard wanderers.

Drake, 76, drives 40 miles to visit his cats about once a month. He especially misses Monkey, who’s stayed as shy as she’s always been.

“For seven years, she stayed in a little metal shed all day. In the evening, she’d come in and both she and Pete would go to sleep on my stomach. I really hated to give that up,” he said.

Like Drake, Haire hopes to visit her cats when she comes to San Diego next month. Four were adopted by families, but three--Fluffy, Freddie and Charlie--still live at the compound.

Finding the Right Home

The society tries to place as many cats as it can, but will turn away people who can’t give the animal a proper home. They do not give away black cats during Halloween--they do get many requests--or release them if the new owner plans to have them declawed.

“We’re all here because we love the cats, and if it’s not in their best interest, we don’t let them go,” Calore said.

The favorites they keep. The society has 13 “house cats” that have the run of the compound. They include Winky-Dink, a macho, one-eyed cat best known for batting away any competitor who nears his food dish, and Cheeks, a huge, orange tabby that lolls on the reception desk, barely opening an eye to greet visitors.

With kitten season starting in earnest, the staff is looking toward a busy spring and summer of adoptions. And it expects to add a few more residents to the retirement home.

“I love cats, and I’ve taken care of them all my life,” said Drake, who said he’s already made friends with his neighbor’s house cat. “Now that I’m retired, I figure it’s time someone else could look after them. But I still miss them very much.”