Over the summer this beautiful white and gray cat started showing up at our door, so naturally we put some food out for her. We didn't know it was a "her", we were just guessing. Until the day when we thought "she" had put on a little weight, followed by the day when she showed up with her brand new kittens.
We've always named our cats after characters we like (Trixie-Kill Bill, Ari-Entourage, Fiona-Burn Notice, Taco-The League) so I came up with the name Smokey because of all the splotches of gray and the affectionate nickname people had for the Smoke Monster in Lost.
When the kittens arrived we almost immediately dubbed them The Bandits as in Smokey and the Bandits. Because why not?
Fast forward a few months. Smokey is gone, baby, gone, and the Bandits are now old enough to find homes of their own. If only they weren't so comfortable in our garage. If only we hadn't given them names (Puff, Plume, Sonny, Bandit). If only they didn't come running when we refill their bowls and jump on us with trust and love.
Four cats in the house. Four cats in the garage. This is my life.
And this is where you come in. Short of punching holes in a few boxes and giving them as Christmas gifts I'm not sure what to do with our influx of cats. I could put a sign up on a telephone pole that says, "Free Kittens" but I'm the kind of person who'd want to interview each applicant and make them produce pictures of their homes so that I'd be sure our little Bandits were going someplace nice.
Worst case we bring them to the vet for fixing and then re-release them. Best case, someone who reads this says, "I've always wanted a kitten!" or "My cat is huge and the vet thinks having a younger playmate will help her lose weight." or "Kate and Kevin are so awesome, I can totally help them out."
It's your call. Unless you want a Christmas gift from us this year that might be a little angry when you open the box.