Quite a few of my friends have been asking, "What about those poor ferals?"
Ice covers the inside as well as the outside of the windows.
Fear not, I return once a week to leave food for them. Though my heart is still broken in not being able to find a home for Grandma. She had been through so much, and had turned into a sweet cat just wanting a safe home. She had been wild her entire life, and could not tolerate my other cats. So I left her behind, and prayed, hoping that she would be okay staying in the place she had lived her entire life. But she wasn't strong, which the vet verified when I had her fixed. The last time I met with her was in the fall after we had moved.
The whole place is abandoned, this is the snowbank I had to crawl over this week to get to the secret spots where they can get into the basement through the foundation, at least out of the wet snow and wind, if not the cold.
The snow is up to my waist now, and not having snowshoes any longer is making it a chore to plow through the snow, with 15 lbs. of cat food, but it's good, worthwhile exercise. I always call for Grandma, and someone will show up, but not her. Week before last it was Dead Beat Dad. This week it was either Grandma's daughter or grandson. I'm hoping she is staying in the basement and safe. This week only one coyote track, one deer track, and a cat paw print with blood frozen into the imprint, hoping its not too bad of a cut on the paw.
And just to prove how truly hopeless I am, if I do ever find Grandma, if she's still alive she's coming with me. I'll find a foster home for her until I find her the home that poor thing so deserves.
I left extra food this week, just in case. Our current oncoming storm is named Ella.