You’d think that after mentioning her foot injury they’d take care to show a sales pic of the mare in which her feet don’t look like they hired a hungry rodent for a farrier. :dubious:
I live in Tucson, right in the middle of the city. But we still see coyotes in our neighborhood regularly. I saw a study that showed that of city coyotes in Tucson, about half their diet was cats. Well, I decided our cats would be inside only from now on.
(cite: Outdoor cats are easy prey for coyotes - CSMonitor.com)
Yes, I’m sure that notion is of great comfort to the cats I see alongside the road, crushed by truck wheels or disembowled by predators or shot or set on fire by evil people. Never mind starvation, illness, fleas, frostbite…
A “better” life :rolleyes:
I always beg people to at least consider keeping their cats inside. I don’t like cats…but do you think I want to run over your beloved pet? Do you think it won’t break my heart just as much when I see that collar?
Knock on wood I have never run over any cats to date, though I have come close. Currently there is a stupid black cat in my neighborhood that saunters across the road, in the dark, never hurrying. One of these days someone is going to run it over and I don’t want it to be me or mine.
When my wife and I first got together she had an indoor/outdoor cat. I was pretty insistent that the cat become indoor only when we moved in together. My wife was willing to go along with it on a trial basis, and the cat is still happy, healthy and zanily playful now almost five years later. She still likes to LOOK outside, but she doesn’t show any desire at all to actually go.
Geez. My point was that sometimes you have to make the choice for them. A cat might like it better outside, but it isn’t always safe. A toddler might like to play in the middle of the interstate, but that isn’t the best choice, either. My cats stay inside.
Sure, we agree it isn’t always safe. Personally, I think some of the dangers are being overstated - I’ve never encountered the cat-burning psychopaths that some upthread are claiming as a common danger. Comparing letting a cat out to a toddler playing in the interstate also = hyperbole.
The issue is how important to rate safety over quality of life. There, I suggest reasonable people can disagree. Some see nothing wrong in having nine indoor cats; others, nothing wrong in letting their cats out. Different values are at work.
Zak, aka Adventure Kitty, was a super-cute grey and white tux cat that belonged to my cousin, who lived on a mountaintop. Zak was Adventure Kitty cuz he loved to walk with her or by himself in the woods on the mountain.
But there were critters bigger than he, who liked to eat critters littler than themselves. So one day Zak didn’t come home. My cousin later went out walking and found what looked a lot like kitty bones. Bye bye Adventure Kitty.
Growing up, my mother used to let her cats go outside. The last cat my grandmother had, Kelly, was an outdoor cat. Despite the fact that she lived to be 18, she still had her close calls. Once when Mom was still living at home, Kelly disappeared once and didn’t come home until the following night. Apparently, some asshole had shot her and she had an injured leg. It took them forever to find a vet, and while she was all right, she had to have a pin in her hip for the rest of her life.
My cats are indoor cats only. The only one who ever tries to get out the door is Luci, and she’s technically still a kitten. And she’s not really trying to escape so much as just walk out, as if “Hmm…what’s out here?” She’ll most likely grow out of it as she gets older. (And if not, too bad. Besides, once you close the door, she’s fine)
Our’s are generally content, extremely spoiled, well fed and warm. They like looking out the window, but other than Luci occassionally trying to explore the porch, they show no interest in getting out. And even Luci’s more obsessed with getting into the cupboard where the food is kept. 
I just don’t want them getting hit by a car, getting into a fight with some other cat, killed by some animal, or hurt like my gramma’s cat.
Good point! I did think those front hooves looked rather, er, ratty.