New book coming out 2014

A full chapter dedicated to
feral cats


Author:  Marcelle Guy
Co-author:  G S  Payne

Read Prologue Here

cat sleeping


A Little Tabby

A Little Tabby . . . 

speaks for the feral cats of the world. 

A true story  By Marcelle Guy  1992-2013


The setting is a small business on the outskirts of town.   Although it could have been  anywhere in America.  Feral cats have the lowest priority.  If you don't see them, they don't exist.

"Touch me" she said.  "It's so easy to leave me all alone with the memory of my days in the sun.  If you touch me you'll understand . . .
(Words from the musical, Cats -  Memory )  

I touched her.  I understood.  And it broke my heart.


                    TabbyToday she let me touch her.  Her little body was trembling with fear but I could not miss the very soft purring underneath the thick  coat of fur.  The encounter was very quick and in no time she ran back, keeping a safe distance once again, watching me pour the fresh food and water into the bowls. 

                Step, step, step . . .   her little feet kneading at the ground as if it was a wool blanket under her feet instead of the sandy soil.   My task done, I stopped to talk to her for a moment.  She looked at me and meowed, her feet still kneading at the ground.  She was closed  enough that I could hear her, still purring very softly.   

A little tabby . . .   kind of cute but so tiny.  Probably just out of kittenhood. 

                I was ignorant of the problem of feral cats when I arrived at the premises several  months earlier.  I am a city woman.  I was shocked to find about three dozens  cats roaming around, looking for food after the place was quiet and all the customers were gone.  I started to feed the cats, not really knowing how to deal with this overwhelming situation. 

                These animals, obviously  homeless,  had no one to look after them.  They were no one's responsibility.   A nuisance according to humans around.  Some looked healthy enough, others were in need of treatment.  Different stage of growth, different colors.  I began feeding them and leaving water for them at night before I left the premises.  Some cats were friendly enough, most likely had been someone's pet at one time.  I began the task of taming them, well enough to get them into  a carrier and take them to be fixed.


                The little tabby was special to me somehow.  She had been quietly studying me at a distance for a long time, wanting to come closer but afraid to.  I needed lots of patience with her before I could get her into a carrier.  

                We were almost there. . .  when all of a sudden the cats disappeared.   I came in one Monday morning and all the cats were gone.  The place totally deserted!  No feline in sight!  The food dish hardly touched.   I filled the bowl  again that night and the food was still there when I came in Tuesday morning. 

                It was eerie!  Even the old black and white cat that everybody talked to and petted was gone.  He had been someone's pet, abandoned to fend for himself. 

               I asked around and someone said the cats had been shot over the weekend.  "Population Control," he  added. 

                I felt sick! 

                Wednesday morning, blood on the side of the water bowl.  Someone was still alive and wounded. 

The place was tense.  I did my work, tears rolling down my face and anger in my heart.  I wanted some answers.  I wanted know the truth.  What happened?  The thought of the little tabby kept coming to my mind.  Where was she?  Where were they all?  Was she alive and too afraid to come out?  Did they think that I betrayed them? 

                A few tense hours passed . . .   Everyone was quiet and anxious at the office.    

                And then I heard it.  I heard a very faint meow outside the door.  I rushed out and there she was.  The little tabby.  She had her face in the bowl of food, as if trying to eat.  When she heard me, she looked up and let out a very weak meow again. 

                I then saw her face.  Part of her mouth had been blown away.  She was barely alive.  Her body had the smell of decaying flesh.  It was a miracle that she made it to the bowl of food where she knew I would find her.  It is as if she heard my prayers and wanted to give me the evidence I needed:  Her little body riddled with bullets. 

                Rolled in a towel, I carried her to the nearest veterinarian and I held her in my arms while she was gently put to sleep.   I heard her last words . . .   A very soft purr . . .   No doubt she said:  "Help us, please."      Her heart stopped beating.     She was gone.   And I alone cried for the little tabby.  The little tabby without a name, without a home.  The little tabby deserted by society.



                At my request, the veterinarian took x-rays, clearly showing the evidence.  Bullet fragments from a .22 rifle.  With this evidence, still in my closet today, the little tabby's prayers were answered.   Feral cats arriving at the premises were never shot again as a way to control the population.  A promise was made and kept.

A Little Tabby

In Memory

Folks, this is America!  These animals need our help!  Trap, spay, neuter and release is the only humane answer to control the feral cat over-populations.  These innocent animals need our compassion.  Some of you may think that the above story is an isolated incident. 

IT IS NOT !!!      


You can make a difference. 
Speak up for America's abandoned, homeless and feral cats.

Feral cats under grafiti
                  scrawled bridge
Feral cats living under the bridge across from one of our local high schools. 
They are homeless decendants of abandoned pets. 
One of many, many colonies of feral cats in America.



Little tabby

Cat Rights
By the  San Francisco Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals
Printed here with permission

The growing popularity of cats as housepets has gone hand-in-hand with increased efforts to legislate, regulate, and even eradicate these animals from our midst. In light of this growing threat to cats' lives and welfare, we feel obligated to come forward and offer our perspective. The Cat Rights listed below represent the basic principles that have guided our efforts on behalf of cats. We hope everyone will listen to all sides, participate in the debate,
and reach their own conclusions. The fate of millions of cats depends on it.

     1. The Right to be recognized as a unique and important species.

     2. The Right to have their individual lives cherished and protected.

     3. The Right to be free from cruelty and abuse.

     4. The Right to receive aid and comfort, including food, water, shelter, and medical care.

     5. The Right to a fair share of public resources for the care and treatment of companion animals.

     6. The Right to be treated as equal members of the animal kingdom.

     7. The Right to be represented accurately and humanely by those who speak on their behalf.

     For a more detailed discussion of each of these rights, please call The SF/SPCA Ethical Studies Department at
     (415) 554-3052, or e-mail us at "", and we'll gladly mail you a copy.

Cat sleeping



Police dog

Tribute to Max,
Petaluma Police K-9

Cat runningPetaluma Feral cats

tabbyA Little Tabby
speaks for the feral cats of the world

In Memory of My Wonderful Companions, The King of Dogs and Healers of the Soul

The Afghan HoundSheba,
                                                        Afghan Hound


Born Feral
Born feral
2009 W.A.V.E. Award Winner for
Western States Region

"The Little Tabby"
(2008 W.A.V.E.
Award Winner for Western States Region)

A Walk with Ellevie

Understanding Repressed Memories

Anatomy of Amnesia


A book coming up fall 2014


Author:  Marcelle Guy
Co-Author:  G S  Payne

Read Prologue Here

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