Last Friday started a little different than most.  We received a call requesting our assistance in vaccinating cats through our mobile vaccine program for an individual that needed to prove  to animal control that their animals were vaccinated.  I’d be lying if I told you that didn’t raise a little concern for me.  Apparently animal control had received complaints about a neighbor feeding cats and creating a nuisance and that neighbor had to prove that all their pets were vaccinated.  The first conversation I had with the pet owner revealed that there were twenty cats in question.  Again…a little concern flickered; but given the right circumstances with the right owner in the right location and the proper care it is not out of the realm of possibility that this situation was just what we were lead to believe- someone with a lot of cats that just needed a little help.  We agreed to vaccinate the cats at her house. 

A second conversation caused the red flag to wave.  As I asked the owner for a definite number of animals that we would be vaccinating so that we could ensure that we had enough supplies the number escalated to twenty-five then thirty-five and finally the owner declared, “I don’t really know how many cats I have”.  Maybe at this point we should have walked away.  We didn’t.

Three of us, a veterinarian included, arrived at the home at about 10:15 am.  I should mention that this is a condominium complex and the owner lives on the second floor.  As we walked up the stairs we could smell the cat urine and feces – no need to wonder why the neighbors were complaining.

We entered the home, invited by the owner, and nothing could have prepared any of us for what we were about to face.  I’ve seen plenty of episodes of Animal Cops on Animal Planet, I’ve heard many tales of animal hoarding but until you are there you do not understand the magnitude of the situation.

Maybe we should have turned around and walked out the door.  We didn’t.

The three of us didn’t say a word, just exchanged shocked glances and a shared sense of disbelief.  The same look of shock, disbelief and worry was on the face of the owner.  She apologized for the state of things, said she was only trying to help, that she loved each and every one of the cats and didn’t know how she got to this point.  I believe her; in her mind she was helping these homeless beings.

To say that there were cats everywhere is a gross understatement.  To say that there was excrement everywhere is equally understated.  Every piece of furniture was soaked in urine (even the TVs were soaked with spray).  There were feces dripping down the walls.  There were four – maybe five – litter boxes that were overflowing and food bowls scattered everywhere.  Frankly I was worried about the owner’s health and well-being just as much as the cats.  

We attempted to capture cats in order to vaccinate them – that is what we were there to do.  We were able to catch a couple and then a couple more after a trip to the hardware store for a net.  After unsuccessful attempts at catching still others it was time for a conference.

The three of us walked to the parking lot for a break.  At that point we knew we could not possibly vaccinate these cats in this environment.  We pulled the plug.

We could not, however, leave the situation as it was.  Maybe we should have, but we didn’t.

We sat on the curb in the 100 degree heat talking about what to do next.  I started making calls to find a place to hold these cats if we could get our hands on them.  I was able to find a vacant veterinary facility and received permission to use it.  We quickly gathered two teams of people – both employees and volunteers.  One team would trap the cats and transport them to the facility and the second team would attempt to triage the cats and get them safely housed.

What happened over the next seven hours defies explanation.  The team trapping cats endured unspeakable trauma.  In every corner, in every cabinet and crevice there were cats to catch who didn’t want to be caught.  At the onset the owner warned us that these cats were not socialized, that she had never touched many of them, and that they all just lived together.  The team decided the best thing to do was to eliminate the places they could hide and to move furntiture and block access.  The horrible situation got worse.  Under every piece of furniture, behind every appliance were the remains of dead cats.   We are a group of rescuers, accustomed to seeing difficult things and handling tough situations but no one was prepared for that.

After many hours of literal blood, sweat and tears, we removed 79 cats from a two bedroom condo that was maybe 850 square feet.  27 of the cats that we removed were dead, 15 were severely diseased and the rest horribly traumatized.

Together with a team of highly skilled individuals we worked through the night, finishing at 3am with our initial assessment of these babies.  Every animal, with the exception of three, had to be sedated to assess them. 

I wish I could tell you that all of these animals are now ok or that they will all recover.  The truth is they won’t.  We are working around the clock to get the sick well, and to try to discern between those cats that are truly feral as opposed to those that are in shock because of this experience.

I struggle to know whether we made the right decision in intervening or whether we should have walked away and let animal control handle this.  (As an aside, animal control was apprised of the situation along the way but we knew their fate if it came to animal control seizing all of these cats.)  The one thing I do know, that whatever the fate of these animals ultimately, they are safe and secure, healing, and none of them will die suffering unspeakable pain under a couch and forgotten.