First I want point out that while the photos might imply otherwise, all of the pictures of cats in traps were taken with the trap firmly shut. I just put the camera really close to the mesh so that the camera took the picture *through* the bars. The doors were *closed*, as they should pretty much always be when a cat is in a trap.
That said, you can look at the pictures of the kitties in the new Flickr Set, Project-Cat Part 2. (I figure we've moved into a new phase, past the simple observation phase.)
So, where were we? Right, the surgery was done by 10:45, the cats were picked up by the Volunteer around 11:45, and by just after noon, when I got home from a meeting, we were ready to lug all 12 cats up to my balcony. (Did I mention I live on the 3rd floor?) They'll only be there until tomorrow, when I'll release them back to where they came from. That was ... hard work. Especially in the heat. Tomorrow when I release them I have to lug them all downstairs, but I'll do it one at a time, and it'll be *down*.
They were still pretty groggy. Any time that one held up his or her head, s/he'd be bobbing around like, well, one of those bobble head dolls. (But much cuter. Bobble head dolls scare me.)
The Volunteer let me borrow a fan to get some air circulating around (since, while they were in the shade, it still got to 97 degrees today, I think.)
Mainly I let them rest, although mid-afternoon I did take their pictures because I couldn't resist. (And, in their state, neither could they.)
Oh, sexes-- since the only way we'd ever know is from the vet!!-- Four girls, eight boys.
Girls: Little Grey Girl, Crooked-Kitteh, Daphne (previously known as "Calico") and Daisy.
Boys: (everyone else) Gandolf, Bozo, Walsingham (previously known as "Little Orange"), Pastel, Moo-Cow #4, Mr Mistophiles, Cyrano and, heh heh, Bessie.
Um, Bessie's sponsors might want to rethink his name now... Apparently our "pregnant female" is actually a big tom-cat!!! Well, I wasn't the only one fooled-- so were the neighbors who a month back were trying to catch "her" to save "her kittens." Heee.
"Bessie" is the most angry of the feral cats at the moment. (Although, quite frankly, the just caught Mustache-kitty is none too pleased just now either.) When the Volunteer came over this evening to change out messy newspapers (oh thank goodness for his help!!), "Bessie" lashed out fiercely, shifting the whole trap about. The Volunteer, who laughs about his moniker here on the blog, joked that "The Volunteer nearly lost The Hand."
Tonight, just about an hour ago now, I gave them all a little food and water. The orange boys (well, 3 out of four) actually chowed down: Bozo, Gandolf and Walsingham. Walsingham even gave me his best little orphan Oliver Twist look for more. Daphne also ate, which surprised me, since she'd seemed pretty lethargic pretty late into the day. As of last check none of the others showed interest, but I'll check again yet.
They all seem pretty good. Pastel has a nasty gash under his left eye, unfortunately, but it doesn't look infected (I hope.) Crooked-Kitteh's left eye is oozing goop, which explains why he has it half closed a lot. But there's not much we can do-- how would you put ointment in the eye of a feral cat? When I got one of my cats, she had an eye infection and it was hard enough to put ointment in her eyes, y'know? Sigh.
Tomorrow, the Dozen's Release.
And Mustache goes to the Mobile Clinic. Which sounds like a particularly strange children's book, doesn't it?