Every evening for two months, I went to the abandoned mobile home park to feed the cats -- a colony of 17, including a calico with attitude named Grandma; a tame cat who never left the porch of the trailer where she'd spent her entire life; two orange brothers who lived across the street from her; two mother cats with kittens near the front of the park; and a black and white tuxedo cat and his friend who moved from trailer to trailer, always together. I named them Buddy and Ben.
Being in what felt like a small town inhabited only by cats and squirrels was both scary and fun at the same time, and I looked forward to my daily visits.
The friend who rescued Puck trapped all the cats. Then we carefully labeled all the traps so friends and family members wouldn't be separated and would go to barns together. I'll always be grateful to the wonderful family in Lynchburg that took the entire colony of 17.
Grandma, who was never fond of her offspring, chose to live separately with her newest litter of kittens in the mobile home park. Being the kind of cat she is, she chose the trailer with the nicest front porch. At her new home, she soon discovered that the house has a beautiful porch, and that's where she spends her time while her kids catch mice in the barn.