FINALLY, the CAT part of our blog.

   After two and a half months of trapping, with most of that time spent getting up during the middle of the night to check the traps, we are happy to report that we have indeed caught one of the elusive felines.  While it was not Schnookems the black cat, it will certainly do for now, since ANY cat will suffice.  In fact, we’re supposed to catch 4 cats, so this is just the ice breaker.  Hopefully we’ll have a better success rate as the late dry season progresses and the cats start searching over greater distances for food.  The heat and lack of rain may be in our favor now, as the kitties start roaming.  Anyway, back to the subject at hand, and the resulting story of how we caught our new feline friend, named Cookies.

   It was early, just about 6am, and Tegan and I were driving to the closest enclosure to check our rat traps.  We’ve been conducting rat trapping this week in order to see how the rats are doing and get some baseline data before the next group of rats gets translocated.  We were both a bit groggy of course, and as we checked our traps the inevitable ‘did you get anything?’ became just a dull grunt, followed by a shake of the head.  I was driving, and pulled up to a set of traps we had only set up the day before.  Tegan got out to go close the traps and I sat there, staring through the windshield and thinking about sleep, rat trapping, and fantasy football.  All of a sudden, something caught my eye.  I turned and saw Tegan about 10 meters away from the ute, jumping up and down and trying to get my attention.  I managed to roll down the window and shout ‘DID WE?!’ at the same time she yelled ‘WE GOT A CAT!!!’.  I bolted out of the ute as Tegan came running up to grab our kit; welders gloves, a large canvas bag, and a cage trap.  The idea is simple: pin the cat, free its leg, put it in the bag, and stuff the bag into the cage. 

   A small male tabby cat stared at us as we approached, and it was only when we started celebrating that he began to struggle. We quickly pinned him as he flailed around, biting and scratching Tegan a little bit (she’ll live).  It was all over in a few minutes as Tegan was able to free his leg while I held him, and then get him into the bag and securely in our possession.  I have to say that we definitely nailed the release and capture, the little fella never suffered and he was dealt with quickly and easily. 

   Adrenaline pumping through our veins, we high fived, chest bumped, and celebrated as much as we could before checking our rat traps.  Tegan had a little blood, but it was nothing that couldn’t be dealt with.  Other than that, we came away with most of our skin intact. We tossed around name ideas as we checked our rat traps, and decided on Cookies.  Not really sure why or how we came to that, but there you go. However, all naming activities aside, the fun parts were yet to come, which included the dreaded collaring. 

   After we got home, we readied everything for the collaring process. This included turning the collar on and programming the GPS portion, which Tegan did in no time at all. We stored Cookies in the air conditioning in our bedroom to make sure he was comfortable while we fiddled around with our supplies.  We needed a fur clip from him for another study, his weight (about 4.3kg…a small kitty), and then we were going to put the collar on. The fur clip was easy, as Tegan pinned him inside the bag and we just exposed his backside in order to snip a bit of hair into a plastic bag. The collar was another story, but getting it on was accomplished surprisingly easily.  I held the head and rear end, keeping him firmly within the bag (the darkness helps to calm animals).  Meanwhile, Tegan snuck the collar around his neck and fitted it properly. All this hype about collaring and in the end it took about 10 minutes.  Little Cookies got a pat for that one—he behaved very nicely. 

   With our poking and prodding out of the way, we decided to release him straight away to avoid anymore unnecessary stress. Making sure the collar was working first, we took him back to the trap site and opened the bag.  He didn’t really move for about 5 minutes, instead choosing to bury his head in the bag and be difficult.  But after exposing his head he looked around for another couple minutes, first glaring at each of us with a look of unbounded contempt.  You could see his mind working, calculating, planning his escape. In the end, he sprung from the bag and ran off into the bush. 

Hate in his eyes...

   We will concede that we were given some helpful advice last month from Gavin (my sister’s cat) and had to wait until after the reptile survey to put it into practice. Gavin had suggested crumpled up paper, catnip toys, and smoked salmon.  With our local shopping center not stocking anything resembling catnip, we decided to give smoked salmon a try. At over 60 dollars a kilo, it is expensive bait. Only the best for our cats!  But after congratulating ourselves on actually remembering to take the salmon while setting traps, we started to regret the idea as it began to cook in the sun, coat our fingers and make the whole car smell of smoked fish! We skillfully dangled bits of stinky fish in our bowers, up above to lure the cats in, while keeping it away from the ants.  I’m not saying that this was the reason Cookies was trapped, but it definitely could’ve been. I must thank Gavin for his advice, any more will be greatly appreciated.

   There you have it, Cookies the cat.  He’s been radio tracked in the past few days and is still alive, near the area where we caught him, so he’s not moving away just because someone crammed him in a bag.  With any luck, that’ll be the first of many! 

Here Comes the Wet Season

   As some of you may know, we recently found out that we were staying here until April.  Well, apparently that was the thought the whole time but we were never privy to such information.  Surprise!  Anyhow, miscommunications aside, the wet season here should be something to experience; the heat, the storms, the flooding.  Already it’s pretty damn hot here during the day, with temperatures getting above 40C (105F).  Luckily it’s more of a dry heat but that will certainly change, and you can already feel it.  With the onset of the wet season you have the months leading up to the real rainy times.  This is known as ‘the buildup’, for those of you who do not reside in the wet/dry tropics.  Basically, these are the months where you wish it would rain since the heat and humidity are enough to boil anyone’s brain.  A nice breeze is hard to come by because even those are hot.  Oh and a sure sign that the rains are coming… ANTS.  Our latest ant wars are making the earlier battles look like playground charades.

The flooded homestead a few years ago

   With our sweat glands getting a workout, we have started to plan for the coming rains.  Since the Wilton River is right near the homestead, it has been flooded before, and apparently our house is one of the first buildings that go under.  With no plans for a second story on the horizon, we’re planning to keep most of our gear on the top shelves of our one and only shelf, pack away our clothes in our big waterproof bin, and park Frank some ways away on higher ground (maybe even in Katherine).  If the river does get high enough that we need to evacuate, we’ll hopefully be ready to grab everything and go, unsure of when our house will be habitable next.  However, I don’t think the potential floods will be sudden, more like a gradual rise until we wake up one morning and our back door opens on to the river.  Which reminds me, we should really update our insurance.   

  We’re already nervously anticipating the first storms so we can watch the water rise with a mixture of panic and excitement.  At the moment, everything is so dry and dusty that it’s hard to think of the place getting wet anytime soon.  Each afternoon when we look to the sky, dark threatening clouds seem to be on the horizon, but seem to be raining everywhere but here. I feel like I’m doing the earth a favor if I pee outside.  Walking around in the bush is like stepping on an earth covered in tin foil since everything crackles with every step.  The rivers are getting lower and lower, every scrap of water is drying up as we speak, and the birds and other wildlife are clustering around whatever patches of wet ground they can find.  The number of wallabies that encroach on the homestead each night is staggering, but having the only green grass, and tasty vegetables around will make anyone come in for a taste (more on that later).

   But as we get ready for the apocalyptic storms that can occur here, we’re still expected to trap cats, and we may be getting more rats to look after.  That will be our wet season activity, if we can actually drive to the enclosures without getting 1) bogged or 2) drowned.  Chopper anyone?