A few weeks ago, one of my customers told me about a nearby business, where there were two feral cats seen roaming around. The owner of the property (a despised man around town) was getting ready to put poison out…for two cats? Good heavens, what would he have done if the cats had kittens?

After work, I went over and had a heart-to-heart with him and he agreed to wait and see if I can trap them before taking further action. Thank you God!

I have been going over there late at night and feeding them at the same times each night. One cat reminds me of my dad’s cat Boots. She is black and white long hair. She stayed well away from me and first but now when I drive up, she comes out of the shadow and head-bumps my legs. If I make an attempt to reach for her, she darts back into the culvert where she hides with the other kitty. He is a Maine Coon cross with horribly matted hair and in desperate need of a vet visit.

My plan is to win their trust, then bring out my traps and get them out of the area before the owner changes his mind and does poison them.

Last night, I got over there later than usual I put the food out and apologized to the cats telling them I would try to be on time next time. I am just talking in the wind. I don’t see any cats but I want them to at least get used to my voice, so I keep blabbering on.
While I was talking to the invisible cats. I was kneeling down on the ground on the other side of my car. The car door was opened a bit leaving the interior light on as restless youths have busted all the outside lights around this building long ago and they have never been replaced.

By the time I shook the box of kibble and poured out the food and popped open a can of wet, they both made their way out of the culvert for their meal.

Suddenly, I am bathed in an intensely, bright light and I hear this voice telling me to freeze! I looked up and see a police cruiser nearby- I guess someone called him about an intruder. Kitties fled- who can blame them and I was left to explain my presence to a suspicious officer.

I think what saved me was the crate of cat food in the back seat of my car- the empty cat carrier I take with me everywhere and the empty can of cat food on the ground near the paper plate. But just for a minute there, I wondered if my husband might have to come up with bail to haul my crazy cat lady butt out of jail!

This just came to my attention:

Cat Lady Goes To Tax Court

A caretaker of feral cats (over 80 in her colony) is also a family lawyer. In 2004 she filed with the IRS and claimed $12,068 as a charitable deduction to her income. All monies related to cat care according to the recent case. These were unreimbursed volunteer expenses and therefore, deductible.

“It’s a huge win for all the rescue people out there,” says the cat
lady, Jan Van Dusen. “The judge was really nice. He understands
what we do. We all go broke doing this.”

The Internal Revenue Service had denied Van Dusen’s entire
deduction, stating that her expenses were personal and not rendered
on behalf of a qualifying charity. The Tax Court, however, found
that she worked for 501(c)(3) charities, primarily Fix Our Ferals,
but also Island Cat Resources and Adoption, Berkeley East Bay
Humane Society, East Bay Society for The Prevention of Cruelty to
Animals, and Second Chance Cat Rescue. To read the Tax Court
opinion,
click here.

She trapped feral cats, socialized them, tried to find them homes or would finally return them outside and care for them there. She did what all of us rescuers do in a day, laundered cat bedding, sanitized her home, scooped litter pans, cleaned cages and carriers and fed all the cats. She provided vet care for each cat, bought cleaning supplies and pet supplies and kept most of the receipts. She also kept track of the mileage to and from the vet and deducted the mileage she spent carting them back and forth to the vet.

The Court concluded that 90 percent of the veterinary and pet
supply expenses and that 50 percent of the cleaning supply and
utility expenses were attributable to Van Dusen’s care for foster
cats and not personal (she had 7 resident cats) and therefore
potentially deductible.

Then the Court considered the substantiation requirements for
claiming a charitable deduction. The Court divided her expenses
into two pots: expenses of less than $250 and expenses of $250 or
more. For the first category, you generally need a canceled check
or other “reliable written record” as proof for a charitable
deduction. In this case the Court accepted carbon copies from Van
Dusen’s check book, credit card statements, an account history from
a pet hospital, and utility invoices.

Van Dusen had charges to a hardware store and Lowe’s where she said
she bought bags of wood stove pellets to use as cat litter, and
although Van Dusen no longer had the itemized receipts, the Court
allowed bank statements that showed the total purchase price if the
total was an exact multiple of the price of one bag of pellets.
(Ideally, you want a receipt that lists the items you purchased.)
Just as a side note, using this type of litter in confined spaces can cause asthma in some cats because of the pellet dust once the pellets get peed on.

For the expenses of $250 or more, the Court denied the deductions
because Van Dusen did not have a contemporaneous letter from a
charity acknowledging that she expended the funds on its behalf.
These big-ticket expenses, mostly bills to the Thornhill Pet
Hospital and the St. Louis Vet Clinic, totaled just over $5,000.
Van Dusen said she didn’t know about the extra requirements for the
expenses of $250 or more until she was audited. You need to have a
substantiation letter from the charity on or before the earlier of
the date you file your return or the due date (including
extensions) for filing the return.

“Had Ms. VanDusen kept better records, almost all of her
unreimbursed volunteer expenses would have been deductible,” says
William Markley, a tax lawyer in Walnut Creek, Calif. who is
helping Van Dusen in negotiations with the IRS over unpaid taxes
for several years. She is addressing the issue of foster cat care
expenses in other tax years, and this decision may be helpful in
that regard, Markley says.

The Tax Court did nix some of Van Dusen’s expenses as
“categorically not related to taking care of foster cats and
therefore not deductible”: $85 for cremating a pet cat, $170 for
bar association dues, and $146 for Department of Motor Vehicle
fees. And the Court found other expenses were not deductible as
they were not “solely attributable” to foster cat care: a wet/dry
vacuum and membership in Costco.

Van Dusen, 59, says she has volunteered as a feral cat rescuer
since 1995, but 2004 was the first year she claimed a deduction for
her cat care expenses. She bought her house in 2002. “It’s me and
the cats,” she says. Last year, she adopted out 23 cats, and placed
8 others in a home for special needs cats. She says she now has
“about 60 cats” and is considering starting her own 501(c)(3)
charity to help feral cats.

(The above information was taken off a Forbes Blog)

Over fiveyears ago, my vet presented me with five malnourished, flea-ridden kittens that were in pretty bad shape. They had been found in an abandoned campsite. I took them home after he gave me an armful of meds for them. It took me several days to get these kittens to eat anything. They turned up their noses at dry cat food, canned kitten food, canned cat food, finally, I sat back and thought about where they came from- an abandoned campground and I chopped up some hot dogs and they ate it!

As the kittens gained strength and started eating better, they gradually evolved to canned kitten food. One female in particular, well she developed a heck of a growth spurt and grew far bigger than the others in her group. At the end of this spurt, I realized, she was not a kitten- she was the mom!

I named her Dash because although she was primarily a black cat, she had an exclamation mark on her face next to her nose. It reminded me of a dash. Little did I know, that she would grow into such a prophetic name for as she got stronger, if we entered into the room she would dash out quickly.

I captured her and put her into the kitten room to work with her, but her feral instinct was to strong and she stopped eating. She was clearly in captivity stress, so I let her out into the house. She has lived with us since-never been sick a day in her life after her rough beginning and we rarely see her.

About three months ago when Mike was trying to let the dog out, Dash, dashed out. I have been trying vainly to trap her but she will have none of that. Last night during a thunderstorm, I shooed all the other cats off the porch and locked them in the house and opened the patio door. Dash was sitting at the bottom of the stairs meowing.

The minute I opened the door and stepped back, she dashed through! YAY! I was so glad to capture her. She has Persian in her and she mats if you look at her. She is such a matted mess, but I want her to decompress first before I get her brushed out. I am just thankful that she is okay and home again.

Today is my last day at work. This morning, I went out on the stoop with my coffee and shared the world waking up with the barn cats. Slim came over immediately and demanded my attention. He crawled up the front of my shirt and nuzzled in deep. As I stroked him, I wondered why outside he is much more friendly than he is indoors? Indoors, I can barely get close to him and he sprays wherever he may be. But outside, he is a lap kitty and a snug bug and surprisingly, he doesn’t spray.

We sat and watched the bluejays attempt to rob Brook of her food. They are brazen these birds and they fly to the lower branches of the pine trees and scold her for not sharing. Not even when she barks at them, do they fly away.

Chappy is laying on the well house roof. Turner comes out from under the house looks at me with great suspicion and darts back under again. I see Baker peched on the fence post staring intently down into the long grasses. I suspect there is another trophy in my future- though the other day waking up to yet another mole, I thought to myself, “man I would rather wake up to hairballs!” All is peaceful at 5:00 a.m. The prediction is for 80 degree weather and then rain back in the forecast for tomorrow. My garden is still drowning and the soil is to wet to till right now.

Well, time to get started with my day. I have cats to feed, a dog to walk and a husband to change bandages on. Then it is off to work for one last final time.

But I saw you this morning when I went to check the mail. You had lost your life to a hungry road, a victim of drivers speeding, unmindful of creatures who have become confused and found themselves in the middle of traffic.

When I first spied you, my heart stopped. Where you one of mine? I could see the gray fur rustling in the breeze and my thoughts raced to my barn cat Squirrel and then to Taylor.

I knew, regardless of who you belonged to- (although odds were good you belonged to no one) I had to move you off the road. Busy weekend traffic wouldn’t be kind to you.

My neighbors came out of the house to stare at the crazy lady with a scoop shovel and as I removed your remains off the road and on to the grasses- I waved at my audience. I wanted to shout: “Are you enjoying the show?” But I stayed silent to the task at hand.

I remember a pang of sorrow at seeing you were such a young cat, and private relief that you were not one of mine.

Had you been able to choose, I am sure you would have rather not been born and left to fend for yourself in the world. Now, at least, you are at peace and with the company of those who have gone on before you.

I’m sorry little one- your life ended quickly and there were no warm arms to hold you in your last breath.