Жительница Кипра борется за выживание бездомных котят, пока городские службы бездействуют

THE WAY THINGS ARE I have books on Celtic archaeology sent to me by a dear friend that I read through and kept till I had leisure time to enjoy studying them. It never came. I open a chapter now and then as I do with a good book, snatching time from what takes up so much of my days – caring for homeless cats, dogs and birds. The dream of a quiet old age, my yappy mouth shut, my creative urges taking over, evaporated along with the intention to throw oil on canvas to my heart’s content. Or design textile pictures I used to make for my young children. Arthritic fingers rule that out now. But mostly I wanted to write in peace and contentment, not having to stop a flow because ravenous animals were depending on me for food and water at any given time. The cats of Cyprus are an entire community and I’ve been feeding them since I came here. Once bequeathed the title ‘cat lady ’, people think your life has nothing else in it. As one woman said to me, ‘Well, I suppose it gives you something to do.’ (You brain dead old fossil, you.) And anyone with a cat problem tries to offload it on you because a) they imagine you are delighted to have yet one more cat for your collection, or b) you have to be the (unsqueamish) one to pick dead cats, birds off the road, take in/ home injured creatures, and are thrilled to be given a box of minute kittens someone has thrown away and the giver doesn’t know how to deal with. And Saint-You won’t mind that new kittens like new babies need feeding often, that includes hijacking your sleep! On August 17 we had a blissful fall of rain in Nicosia. Coming from my rounds, a woman was dithering outside her house. She showed me a trembling, crying newborn kitten in a rain puddle under a tree. Shuddering, revulsed, she couldn’t bear to touch it. She pointed to the roof. None of the area cats were about to give birth, none hike kittens across the rooftops. Perhaps, I wondered, a crow took it from one of the gardens at the back of the houses. A kind friend got me some lactose free baby milk, vet approved, cheaper also than some brands made especially for young cats. Finding the right proportions for a body so small is trial and error. After a sleepless night I found it. Friends who feed homeless cats told me they received municipality spay vouchers, gave me the appropriate number which rang and rang, no reply. I tried the municipality info desk and a woman took my particulars, they would be in touch. I waited … nothing, I called again and was told the same thing, I was on a list, when I came up, they would call me. I waited, got another number for the vet service they told me nothing to do with them, call the municipality. Weeks later, my friends have had their homeless cats spayed, by the time they get to me, if ever, the cats may be pregnant or feeding babies and I’ll have more mouths to cope with. Peace of body and mind is a huge plus in life but I’ll never be at peace as long as I am aware of suffering people with far worse lives than mine, and creatures in bad conditions. The actions of uncaring others can intrude upon our peace, but the natures of we animal lovers make us unable to resist helping creatures in need engulfing our own free time and peace of mind.