Every evening as my husband Glen and I relax on our porch with coffee, we are greeted by a loud “maaaiooow.” It’s Minnie, a calico cat, bounding up the steps, expecting her daily serving of Purina. We’ve nicknamed her Minnie, after “Minnie the Moocher,” because she always seems hungry. When she first appeared last year, we weren’t sure if she was a stray. Although thin, she was clean and eventually sported a new flea collar, which I loosened for comfort. We later discovered she lived nearby with a rather unfriendly owner who asked us not to feed her wet food, claiming this young, active cat was on a “special diet.” Despite Minnie’s constant cries for food, especially at night, her owner insisted she had a “curfew.” However, Minnie is outside all hours, even when we’re out at four in the morning. If there’s a curfew, it’s certainly brief. We suspect her owner is simply embarrassed about having a perpetually hungry cat roaming the neighborhood. Minnie is always around our house, always outdoors, even in winter, and clearly seems neglected.
I adore Minnie. She purrs and sleeps on my lap after eating, and she enjoys perching on my shoulders, rubbing her face against my hair. After she’s fed, she contentedly naps on our laps or at our feet. She can be a bit persistent, rarely leaving our property and sometimes getting under Glen’s feet while he works. And if you delay feeding her, she’ll cry until you give in. Despite these minor annoyances, I’ve grown very fond of her and feel protective. I’m also quite angry at her neglectful owner.
Recently, a friend recounted a story about saving her cat from a fisher. Intrigued, I looked up fishers online to learn more and see Fisher Cat Photos Pictures. I recalled hearing a haunting sound before, one that’s unmistakable – like a mix between a cat’s howl and a baby’s long cry. Descriptions online confirmed that once you hear it, you never forget it.
Tonight, as Glen and I were enjoying coffee on the back porch, we heard a long, mournful wail that sent chills down our spines. “A Fisher!” I exclaimed to Glen, panic rising. “Minnie!” I called out for her, and Glen rushed to the edge of the porch. Immediately after, we heard another sound, horrifying this time: a terrified cat scream.
Glen saw Minnie lying near a tree, motionless. He also spotted the fisher nearby, recognizing it from the fisher cat photos pictures I had shown him online – the long snout and dark fur. He quickly switched on the bright porch light, illuminating the fisher, which then scurried away. Minnie was stretched out, seemingly lifeless. I screamed, overwhelmed with grief and hysteria.
Then, suddenly, Minnie jumped up and bounded onto the porch, clearly frightened and shaken, but otherwise unharmed. She had been playing dead, so convincingly that she even fooled Glen. This, combined with the sudden light, had scared the fisher off. I scooped Minnie into my arms, rushed her inside, and then took her to the front yard, where I held her, fed her, and cried from relief and anger.
Glen, still shaken, marched over to the neighbor’s house to warn her about the fisher and how Minnie had almost been killed. She simply stared blankly, as if he were making up the story. Frustrated and angry, Glen said, “If you want a dead cat, keep letting your cat out at night,” and stormed back home.
Now, I’m at a loss. I desperately want to bring Minnie into our home to protect her, but Glen insists we can’t, as she isn’t our cat. Should we contact the ASPCA? What can we do? I am terrified for Minnie’s safety and feel helpless to protect her from these predators. This close encounter has made the threat of fisher cats very real, highlighting the dangers they pose to domestic pets, especially those left to roam outdoors at night. Seeing fisher cat photos pictures online is one thing, but experiencing the reality of their presence in your backyard is truly frightening.
