70 cats and the nine lives of two former street junkies

Seattle couple offers care for dozens, but larger question of wild cat population remains

Mon., Dec. 12, 2011

Seattle residents Joe and Nellie Salinas take care of more than 70 'street cats' by setting up feed stations through the area. (Paul K. Haeder / Down to Earth NW Correspondent)

Paul K. Haeder Down to Earth NW Correspondent

"The Naming Of Cats," T.S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,

It isn't just one of your holiday games;

You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter

When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.

First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,

Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,

Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--

All of them sensible everyday names.

There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,

Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:

Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--

But all of them sensible everyday names.

But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,

A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,

Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,

Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?

Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,

Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,

Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-

Names that never belong to more than one cat.

But above and beyond there's still one name left over,

And that is the name that you never will guess;

The name that no human research can discover--

But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.

When you notice a cat in profound meditation,

The reason, I tell you, is always the same:

His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation

Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:

His ineffable effable

Effanineffable

Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

I have studied many philosophers and many cats. The wisdom of cats is infinitely superior. — Hippolyte Taine Joe and Nellie Salinas are more than just cat people. Their American Indian backgrounds – she’s Tlingit and he’s Yakama – have put them into the center of saving the throwaways of Beacon Hill and other places in Seattle where it’s more than a dog-eat-dog existence. Street felines speak to the couple since both individually fought the demons of booze and drugs, both having lived on the streets and scoured for dry space to crash and cook their heroin. Witnessing violence on the street and within their immediate families, for both of them, also shaped who they are. For now, Seattle is home, and they can’t resist helping stray cats, many of whom are on the streets because owners failed them. “It’s not the cats’ fault that they are on the streets,” Joe said one windy day while feeding five cats. “They are actually pretty darn aloof, clean and loving. Daily, the husband-wife team checks on 70 cats at 10 feeding stations. Their car is a virtual meals-on-wheels for cats. The cats they watch over are “fixed and have been vaccinated.” The human cat rescue team gets some guff from a few residents, but most people applaud them for taking care of street cats. The conundrum is as an environmentalist, where should I stand on cats? I’ve had plenty of biology classes and field reporting on how many species, including avian, that are killed by outside cats. Heck, stories like the one from Atlantic City, where the Humane Society is feeding feral cats – some 300 on the beaches – and the Monmouth County Audubon Society is asking the city to get rid of them, since the MCAS purports that “cats endanger shorebirds and small mammals and causing health concerns because of their waste.” “If it weren’t for cats, the rats would take over Seattle,” Joe told me as he set out plates of three kinds of food and freshly cleaned water bowls at one of the feeding stations around Seattle. The animals are all strays, abandoned by people who either have had to pack up and leave because of financial woes, or just by people who dump unwanted cats in “other people’s neighborhoods.” Joe and Nellie have names for all the cats, and each one has been taken to several veterinarians of choice for shots, de-fleaing, check-ups and spaying and neutering. They all have a snippet of an ear lopped off for easy identifying. They see their duty as former street people to take care of the abandoned animals who have uniquely evolved to be loners. Some feeding stations are like those at the edge of Jose Rizal Park— Rubbermaid bins fitted to hold plates of several types of cat food – usually donated – and those on private property, even businesses like an International District glass company that allows the Salinases to go onto property and take care of the feeding stations. Joe is a roofer, having worked around the state, apprenticing in Yakima under his dad. Nellie has roots in Alaska and Port Angeles. They have been actively feeding and caring for strays for more than 26 years. Both have seen an uptick in the number of strays as the economy tips and regular low income folk get pummeled. “It’s a sad thing to see cats who one time had families left there in the neighborhood. They want that human companionship, but then they’re left on the streets,” Joe said while calling one stray out of a bush-covered feeding station and shelter they set up with permission on Pacific Medical Center’s property. The Salinases gave up alcohol and drugs cold turkey 14 years ago – “….Cleansing together, there has to be that balance … . It never works when one is getting high and the other is going clean. We did it together.” They honor cats with food, water, vet visits, and love, and the cats in return repay their dedication. One cat in particular “enlightened” Joe and Nellie on the ephemeral nature of man-animal connection. It was a Guinness Book of Records cat, and even the veterinarian had to record it for posterity by photographing what he said was the oldest cat – probably over 30 years old – he’d ever encountered. “She came to our bedroom window for a week, and then one day we found her, dead, outside. Nellie told me she was about to pass on, that’s why she came to find us and stayed outside our apartment,” Joe said, quickly pointing out that all the cats have names, from Smoky, to Chocolate Chip, Stubby Legs, Low Rider and every other diminutive they can think of. Two big lessons they want to impart to people about the cats of Shoreline, Beacon Hill, Rainer Beach and Lake City or elsewhere: “They were put on this earth for a purpose … . It’s not them that are dirty … it’s your own thoughts if you believe that. These animals are clean and care for themselves better than I did when I was on drugs and on the streets. ” And another one – “If you are homeless, it’s not a good thing to have an animal, a pet, because you are just too busy taking care of yourself to take care of a pet. What happens to the animal when you end up in jail?” That animal might be the next Rocky or Sugarplum that gets the tender-loving care from Joe, Nellie and a few others in their group who daily feed and water the animals.

According to lore, Mohammed’s cat Muezza was so important to him that once when he fell asleep on the sleeve of his master’s robe, instead of disturbing his revered cat when he had to leave, Mohammed cut off the sleeve of his robe.