Poppy and Milly in the cat run Pam built in Sydney. By Pamela Jacka
My last home was a rented townhouse on the edge of Lane Cove National Park in north-western Sydney. Against my better judgement (I have lots of those moments!), I adopted a one-year-old male cat called Raj from a Bangladeshi workmate who had initially adopted him from the RSPCA and said Raj was short-haired and placid.
My last home was a rented townhouse on the edge of Lane Cove National Park in north-western Sydney. Against my better judgement (I have lots of those moments!), I adopted a one-year-old male cat called Raj from a Bangladeshi workmate who had initially adopted him from the RSPCA and said Raj was short-haired and placid.
He was indeed placid. After escaping from the cardboard box in the car on the way home, he just sat calmly on the back seat. Funny, he doesn’t do that any more! His former family was vegetarian and, as you know, cats are carnivores. He was badly matted (you’ll see in the photos that he’s actually a long-haired cat), had fleas and diarrhoea. I reckon that would make anyone placid.
I got the matting removed and started feeding him meat. After 15 years, he still hasn’t figured out how to pick it up with his teeth. Anyway, I learned that desexed male cats have a range of around one square kilometre. Living beside a national park and in a townhouse complex where an aggressive, outdoor male cat was in residence (one too many fights), it was time to make a decision.
The photo above is the cat run in Sydney, installed around a melaleuca ... which huntsman spiders love to live in and occasionally piggy-backed into the house via one of the cats.
Two more cats arrived later, one from a pet shop (I never buy animals from pet shops! ne dis jamais jamais!) and the other, a tiny wee thing that walked out of the national park. It took three months to catch her after which the Cat Protection Society said she’d have to be put down because she was a feral.
I managed to get her desexed but she’s not on the annual immunisation run. Eleven years later, she still has feral tendencies but, of the three, she enjoys the cat run the most. I think she knows what her fate would have been if she’d stayed in the bush! Raj immediately became Felix (16), Milly (12) is the boss and Poppy (11) is Poppy.
There are many different options for cat run installations on the Catnip website and there’s one for every situation. It felt a bit odd at first, like being in a zoo, but now it’s nice to see them sunning themselves or raging against the Wonthaggi winds.
The first module, which is joined to the house by an “aerial” tunnel, which is joined to a cat door in a window, is six foot high by two foot square. It joins another module, about twice the size, via another aerial tunnel which is about six foot long and hurts when you walk into it!
The cats often do their mad runs from the furthest point in the run, along the aerial tunnel and into the house, crashing through the cat door.
Poppy also sunbakes in this tunnel, on her back with her legs in the air. There are steps and hammocks in each module and each has a large door for access by humans.
Just pick a nice spot, protected from the street but sunny and with bushes around for birds to flit past. The cats are safer, I know where they are (as opposed to being squashed on the road or getting into fights) and nature is safe ... except for the cheeky lizards who think they can dash through the run without being caught!
The cat run in Sydney was in the corner of a largish courtyard that had about eight square metres of grass, a large paved area and two biggish garden beds. The wildlife had 90 per cent and the cat run 10 per cent. Judging by the number of little beasties that “the boss”, aka “the hunter”, brought into the house, I think there must have been some sort of initiation process whereby you could not join the club until you had managed to scuttle through the cat run without being caught. She brought in common skinks, eastern water skinks and frogs but couldn’t quite manage the gecko. Fortunately the gecko shouted rather loudly when cornered so I could go outside to break up the fight.
The eastern water skinks were a bit of a problem because she wouldn’t drop them and I had to resort to pinching her nostrils so she’d open her mouth. There’s only been one skink caught since I’ve been in Wonthaggi, at least that I know of. The sparrows play in the cat run but are too quick to be caught.
I think it’s time for a dog – I’m tired of being a servant!
I got the matting removed and started feeding him meat. After 15 years, he still hasn’t figured out how to pick it up with his teeth. Anyway, I learned that desexed male cats have a range of around one square kilometre. Living beside a national park and in a townhouse complex where an aggressive, outdoor male cat was in residence (one too many fights), it was time to make a decision.
The photo above is the cat run in Sydney, installed around a melaleuca ... which huntsman spiders love to live in and occasionally piggy-backed into the house via one of the cats.
Two more cats arrived later, one from a pet shop (I never buy animals from pet shops! ne dis jamais jamais!) and the other, a tiny wee thing that walked out of the national park. It took three months to catch her after which the Cat Protection Society said she’d have to be put down because she was a feral.
I managed to get her desexed but she’s not on the annual immunisation run. Eleven years later, she still has feral tendencies but, of the three, she enjoys the cat run the most. I think she knows what her fate would have been if she’d stayed in the bush! Raj immediately became Felix (16), Milly (12) is the boss and Poppy (11) is Poppy.
There are many different options for cat run installations on the Catnip website and there’s one for every situation. It felt a bit odd at first, like being in a zoo, but now it’s nice to see them sunning themselves or raging against the Wonthaggi winds.
The first module, which is joined to the house by an “aerial” tunnel, which is joined to a cat door in a window, is six foot high by two foot square. It joins another module, about twice the size, via another aerial tunnel which is about six foot long and hurts when you walk into it!
The cats often do their mad runs from the furthest point in the run, along the aerial tunnel and into the house, crashing through the cat door.
Poppy also sunbakes in this tunnel, on her back with her legs in the air. There are steps and hammocks in each module and each has a large door for access by humans.
Just pick a nice spot, protected from the street but sunny and with bushes around for birds to flit past. The cats are safer, I know where they are (as opposed to being squashed on the road or getting into fights) and nature is safe ... except for the cheeky lizards who think they can dash through the run without being caught!
The cat run in Sydney was in the corner of a largish courtyard that had about eight square metres of grass, a large paved area and two biggish garden beds. The wildlife had 90 per cent and the cat run 10 per cent. Judging by the number of little beasties that “the boss”, aka “the hunter”, brought into the house, I think there must have been some sort of initiation process whereby you could not join the club until you had managed to scuttle through the cat run without being caught. She brought in common skinks, eastern water skinks and frogs but couldn’t quite manage the gecko. Fortunately the gecko shouted rather loudly when cornered so I could go outside to break up the fight.
The eastern water skinks were a bit of a problem because she wouldn’t drop them and I had to resort to pinching her nostrils so she’d open her mouth. There’s only been one skink caught since I’ve been in Wonthaggi, at least that I know of. The sparrows play in the cat run but are too quick to be caught.
I think it’s time for a dog – I’m tired of being a servant!