As the temperatures start to drop and the rainy season approaches, it's time to start thinking about the cats who don't have a warm house to go home to at night. Here in the Central Valley, we're lucky our winters are generally mild compared with many parts of the country. But cold temperatures combined with rain, wind and wet fur can still be dangerous for an outdoor cat. And with forecasts calling for a potentially wetter winter, now is a good time to make sure the cats in your neighborhood have somewhere safe and dry to escape the weather. The good news is helping them doesn't have to be expensive or complicated. A DRY SHELTER CAN MAKE A HUGE DIFFERENCE If you care for a colony of community cats, one of the best things you can do is provide an outdoor shelter where they can get out of the rain and wind. The most important thing is the shelter stays dry. A shelter should have a small entrance that is just large enough for a cat to get through. A smaller opening helps keep rain and wind from blowing inside, helps the cat retain body heat and can also protect a cat from predators. You can purchase outdoor cat shelters, but you can also make one yourself with inexpensive materials. One of the easiest DIY shelters uses a large Rubbermaid-style storage container. Simply cut an appropriately sized opening in the side of the container, add insulation if desired, and provide dry bedding inside. The lid keeps rain out, and the plastic container helps protect the cat from wind and moisture. And you don't have to be particularly crafty. If you can use a box cutter and have a storage container, you can make a basic shelter. There are several ways to build an inexpensive outdoor cat shelter. The photos below show how a simple plastic storage tote, some Styrofoam insulation, and straw can become a warm, dry place for a community cat to escape the winter weather. STRAW IS YOUR FRIEND When it comes to outdoor shelters, straw is a great bedding material. Straw helps insulate the shelter and doesn't hold moisture the way some other materials can. Avoid using blankets, towels or other fabric as the primary bedding in an outdoor shelter. Once they become wet or damp, they can actually make the shelter colder rather than warmer. And remember to check the shelter regularly. If the bedding becomes wet, replace it. A shelter that is supposed to protect a cat from the rain isn't doing much good if the inside is soaked. WHAT ABOUT A HEATED BED? If you have access to electricity near your shelter, a heated outdoor pet bed or heating pad designed specifically for animals can provide additional warmth. But safety is extremely important. Only use products that are specifically designed for outdoor or animal use, and follow the manufacturer's instructions. Outdoor-rated equipment and protected electrical connections are especially important when rain is involved. Never use a household heating pad that isn't designed for animals or outdoor conditions. If you don't have a safe electrical source, don't worry. A properly insulated, dry shelter with appropriate bedding can still provide a huge amount of protection from the elements. KEEP FOOD AND WATER PROTECTED Cold and rainy weather also means paying a little extra attention to food and water. Try to keep food somewhere covered so it doesn't become soaked. Wet food can spoil more quickly, and dry food obviously isn't very appetizing once it's sitting in a puddle. Water should also be protected from rain and debris and checked regularly. If you're feeding multiple community cats, keeping the feeding area separate from their sleeping shelter can help keep the shelter cleaner and drier. DON'T FORGET ABOUT CARS Winter weather also creates another danger for outdoor cats: cars. When the weather is cold, cats may crawl underneath vehicles or into warm engine compartments looking for shelter. Before starting your vehicle, especially if you know there are community cats in your neighborhood, take a quick look underneath and give the hood a gentle tap. It only takes a few seconds, and it could save a life. CHECK ON YOUR SHELTERS REGULARLY Once you've put a shelter outside, don't just forget about it. Check it regularly to make sure the entrance hasn't become blocked, the bedding is dry, the shelter hasn't shifted or become damaged, and rain isn't getting inside. You may also discover that the cats have decided they prefer a different location! That's okay. Cats can be very particular about where they sleep. You may have to experiment with placement until you find a spot they feel comfortable using. Try placing shelters in a quiet, protected area away from heavy foot traffic. If possible, position the opening away from the direction of prevailing wind and rain. YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING Sometimes we see a community cat outside and think, I wish I could bring every cat home. Believe me, I understand that feeling. But helping doesn't always mean bringing a cat inside. Sometimes helping means putting out a shelter. Sometimes it means making sure a colony has food and clean water. Sometimes it means getting a cat spayed or neutered so there aren't more kittens born outside next spring. And sometimes it means simply noticing the cats in your neighborhood and deciding that you're going to do something to make their lives a little better. A simple Rubbermaid shelter may not look like much to us. To a cat sitting outside in the middle of a cold, rainy night, it can mean everything. So before the winter rains really get going, take a look around your neighborhood. Is there a community cat who could use a dry place to sleep? If there is, consider making a shelter. It doesn't have to be fancy. And that small effort can make a very big difference to a cat who has nowhere else to go. REMEMBER TO KEEP CATS SAFE THIS WINTER!

THOUSANDS OF CATS. ONE INCREDIBLE COMMUNITY. When you see a cat with a freshly tipped ear walking through your neighborhood, you might think about the cat. But have you ever stopped to think about all the people who helped that cat get there? There is a whole team behind every cat Fresno TNR helps. Someone trapped the cat. Someone transported it. Someone coordinated the appointment. A veterinary team provided the surgery and care. Volunteers made sure the cat was where it needed to be before and after the appointment. And then, that cat went back home to its neighborhood with one very important thing changed: it can no longer contribute to the cycle of unwanted kittens. Multiply that by thousands of cats, and you start to get an idea of what Fresno TNR has become. Since becoming a nonprofit in 2023, Fresno TNR has helped with more than 27,000 spay and neuter surgeries. That number is amazing. But what is even more amazing is the number of people who made it possible to help those 27,000 cats. IT REALLY DOES TAKE A VILLAGE Fresno TNR is a community effort in every sense of the word. Our volunteers are the heart of the organization. They trap cats, transport them, clean kennels and traps, foster, help with intake, assist with events, care for recovering cats and kittens, answer questions and do countless other jobs that most people never see. Some volunteers give a few hours when they can. Others are here every week. Some work directly with cats, while others spend their time behind a computer or phone. Every one of those contributions matters. And then there is the administration working behind the scenes to keep everything moving. Brandi, Gilbert, Kris, Cassie, and Savannah all play important roles in making Fresno TNR what it is today. And they only scratch the surface of the number of volunteers it takes to keep this organization running. It is easy to see the cats. It is harder to see all the people working behind the scenes to help them. SOME OF THE MOST IMPORTANT WORK HAPPENS BEHIND THE SCENES Fresno TNR has some amazing volunteers who work on things that don't necessarily involve touching a cat at all. Our all-volunteer Website, Newsletter, and Social Media teams help spread the word about our work. They are the core group who help reach people who need our services. They promote events and help tell the stories of the cats and people who make up Fresno TNR. Our Fundraising Team works on creative ways to bring our community together and generate support for the organization's mission. And our Grant Writing Team spends countless hours researching opportunities, writing applications, and seeking out organizations that want to help communities like ours. These teams may not always be visible, but their work makes it possible for Fresno TNR to continue growing and helping more cats. WE ARE GRATEFUL FOR OUR PARTNERS Fresno TNR is also fortunate to have wonderful partners who believe in the work we are doing. Dogwood Animal Rescue Project has been incredibly generous in supporting Fresno TNR, and we are truly grateful for their partnership. We are also thankful for the veterinary professionals and organizations that work with us to provide services for the cats in our community. And then there are the individual donors. People from all over the United States have found Fresno TNR and chosen to support our mission. Some send their donations with their names attached, while others prefer to remain anonymous. We may not always know the story behind every donation, but we know what it means to us. It means someone, somewhere, believes that what we are doing matters. And that means a lot. EVERYONE HAS A WAY TO HELP One of the things I love most about Fresno TNR is that there isn't just one way to be part of it. You don't have to be an expert at trapping. You don't have to be a veterinarian. You don't need hours of free time every week. Maybe you can foster a cat for a few days. Maybe you can help transport. Maybe you can spend a Saturday morning cleaning. Maybe you are good at social media. Maybe you love organizing events. Maybe you have experience writing grants. Maybe you are great at talking to people and would be incredible at a fundraiser. Or maybe you see a Fresno TNR post on Facebook and share it with your friends. All of it helps. And sometimes that one small thing you do leads to something much bigger. MORE THAN 27,000 CATS AND COUNTING When we look at more than 27,000 spay and neuter surgeries, it would be easy to focus on the number. But behind every number is a cat. And behind every cat is a story. There is the person who noticed the cat needed help. The volunteer who stepped up. The person who transported. The veterinary team. The foster. The donor. The fundraiser. The behind-the-scenes team of volunteers. The person who shared a post. It takes all of us. Fresno TNR exists because people decided that the cats in our community were worth helping. So to every volunteer who has ever cleaned a kennel, set a trap, answered a message, transported a cat, opened their home to a foster, worked an event, written a grant, made a phone call, raised money, shared a post or showed up when someone needed help: Thank you. To our partners, donors, and supporters, including Dogwood Animal Rescue Project and the many individuals across the country who continue to believe in our mission: Thank you. To every volunteer, whether you’re out in the community or working behind the scenes, thank you for the time, energy, and heart you put into keeping Fresno TNR moving forward. We've already helped more than 27,000! And there are still so many more waiting. That's why we keep going. Because it takes a village, and Fresno TNR has an amazing one.

We received more than 300 entries. The votes are in. And the winner is... Sent in by Randi Lara-Padilla with the most votes Congratulations! Here are some honorable mentions: Sent in by Rebecca Lui Sent in by Denise Robertson Sent in by Rebecca Lui Sent in by Theresa Burke Thank you to everyone who submitted a photo, voted, and joined in on the fun. With more than 300 entries, there were plenty of great cats to choose from, and you picked the winner. Thanks for sharing your cats, casting your votes, and helping make FROM FELINE TO FAMOUS one of the most fun parts of the newsletter.

If you've spent any time around cats, you may have heard the term FIP and immediately thought, "Oh no." For a long time, that reaction would have been understandable. Feline Infectious Peritonitis was considered a devastating disease, and once a cat developed clinical FIP, it was generally considered fatal without treatment. But things have changed. And two young cats currently being fostered through Fresno TNR are proof of just how much has changed. Meet Holler and Shilo. Both are juvenile cats who developed FIP. Both became seriously ill. And both are now doing incredibly well on oral FIP medication. In fact, if you watched the two of them playing, wrestling, snuggling and acting like completely normal young cats, you would never guess what they have been through. SO, WHAT EXACTLY IS FIP? FIP stands for Feline Infectious Peritonitis, and it is caused by certain forms of feline coronavirus. This part can get a little confusing because feline coronavirus is actually very common in cats, especially where cats live in groups. Most cats that encounter feline coronavirus never develop FIP. The virus usually lives in the gastrointestinal tract and causes little or no illness. Some cats may have mild diarrhea or mild respiratory symptoms and recover on their own. In a small percentage of infected cats, however, the virus undergoes mutations that change its behavior. The mutated virus can infect white blood cells and travel throughout the body. The cat's immune response to that infection can then cause the severe inflammation associated with FIP. According to the Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine's Feline Health Center, only a small percentage of cats exposed to feline coronavirus go on to develop FIP. And that is when things can become very serious. THERE ARE TWO FORMS OF FIP FIP generally appears in two forms: wet FIP and dry FIP. Wet FIP is called the effusive form. In these cats, fluid can build up in the abdomen or chest. A cat may develop a swollen or "pot-bellied" appearance, and if enough fluid accumulates in the chest, breathing can become difficult. Dry FIP is called the noneffusive form. This form can affect organs throughout the body and may cause neurological problems when the central nervous system is involved. Signs can include seizures, difficulty walking and poor coordination. And just to make things more complicated, FIP doesn't always stay neatly in one category. A cat can progress from one form to the other. WHAT DOES FIP LOOK LIKE? The early signs can be frustratingly nonspecific. A cat with FIP may stop eating, lose weight, become depressed or lethargic, and develop a fever. Depending on the form of FIP, other symptoms can develop as the disease progresses. That is one reason FIP can be so difficult to diagnose. There isn't currently one simple test that can say, Yes, this cat definitely has FIP. Coronavirus antibody tests can't distinguish between ordinary feline coronavirus exposure and FIP. Other tests, including PCR and tests that look for viral proteins, can provide useful information, but none is 100 percent accurate. Veterinarians therefore look at the whole picture — the cat's history, physical examination, symptoms and laboratory results — when making a presumptive diagnosis. AND THEN THERE IS THE GOOD NEWS This is the part I really want people to know. FIP is treatable. Not that long ago, FIP was considered essentially untreatable and almost always fatal. Today, antiviral treatment has completely changed the outlook for many cats. One of the most extensively studied medications is GS-441524. According to the Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine's Feline Health Center, studies in laboratory cats and naturally occurring cases have found GS-441524 to be a safe and effective treatment option. An oral compounded formulation is now available in the United States through a veterinary prescription. That brings us back to Holler and Shilo. MEET HOLLER Holler is an adorable gray juvenile cat who came to Fresno TNR after one of our wonderful volunteers, Theresa, saw a post on Nextdoor. The post suggested that a cat had possibly been hit by a car. Theresa went to check on him, and Holler ended up coming into Fresno TNR's care. As his condition was evaluated, it became clear that something much more complicated was going on. Brandi suspected Holler was suffering from FIP. Today, Holler is receiving oral FIP medication — and the difference is incredible. He plays. He wrestles. He snuggles. He acts like a young cat who has absolutely no idea that he was once facing a very serious disease. And when he finishes his medication, he will be looking for his forever home. THEN THERE'S SHILO Shilo is a beautiful dilute calico who came to Fresno TNR through one of our Facebook followers. Her story was especially scary. She had developed neurological symptoms and had reached the point where she couldn't stand at all and was having seizures. Imagine looking at a young cat who can't even stand and wondering what could possibly be done. Once again Brandi, with her innate sense of diagnosing cats, suspected FIP. Shilo started on oral FIP medication and the transformation happened over a couple of weeks from not being able to stand at all to using her back legs, albeit wobbly. And now? You would never know. Shilo plays. She wrestles with Holler. She snuggles. She acts like a normal, happy young cat. The same kitten who couldn't stand is now running around and doing what young cats are supposed to do. And once she completes her medication, she will also be ready for adoption. FIP IS STILL SERIOUS — BUT THERE IS HOPE It's important not to minimize FIP. It is a serious disease, and treatment can be complicated. The Cornell Feline Health Center notes there are still questions surrounding antiviral therapy, including long-term effectiveness, ideal dosing and the possibility of drug resistance. There is another part of FIP treatment that isn't always talked about: the medication can be very expensive. GS-441524 has to be specially compounded, and the cost can add up quickly. But when you watch a kitten like Shilo go from being unable to stand to running around, wrestling and snuggling with her foster brother, you realize just how worthwhile that treatment is. The generous donations we receive through Fresno TNR help make it possible for us to say, “Yes, let's give this cat a chance.” The word FIP no longer has to mean there is nothing you can do. That is a huge change. And Holler and Shilo are two very good reminders of that. CAN I CATCH FIP FROM MY CAT? No. According to the Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine's Feline Health Center, coronaviruses are not known to be transmissible from infected cats to humans. Another important point is feline coronavirus can spread between cats, but FIP itself is not believed to spread from cat to cat in the same way. FIP is believed to develop when feline coronavirus infection mutates within an individual cat. WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER CATS IN MY HOUSE? Because feline coronavirus is common and can spread between cats, good hygiene and good cat husbandry are important. Keep litter boxes clean and away from food and water dishes, and avoid overcrowding whenever possible. The Cornell Feline Health Center also notes keeping cats healthy and appropriately vaccinated against other illnesses may help decrease the likelihood of FIP developing. If your cat is showing symptoms that concern you, or if you suspect FIP, talk to your veterinarian. FIP can be difficult to diagnose, and every cat is different. Your veterinarian can evaluate your cat's individual symptoms and medical history and discuss appropriate testing and treatment options. A LITTLE HOPE GOES A LONG WAY FIP used to be one of those diagnoses that made everyone involved feel helpless. Today, we have something we didn't have before: Hope. Holler and Shilo aren't statistics to us. They're two cats who got very sick and were given a chance. And now they're thriving. Holler and Shilo are both still on their medication, but their futures look very different than they once did. Soon, they'll finish treatment, find their forever homes and hopefully spend the rest of their lives doing what every young cat should be doing: Playing, wrestling, snuggling and getting into a little bit of trouble. And honestly, we're perfectly okay with that. A NOTE ABOUT FIP The information in this article is intended for general education and is not a substitute for veterinary advice. If you are concerned that your cat may have FIP, please consult your veterinarian. Diagnosis and treatment decisions should be made with a veterinary professional who can evaluate your individual cat. Source: Cornell University College of Veterinary Medicine, Cornell Feline Health Center, Feline Infectious Peritonitis (FIP), updated 2024.

October is here, which means pumpkins are showing up on front porches, Halloween decorations are everywhere, and, of course, black cats suddenly become the stars of the season. But have you ever wondered why black cats became associated with Halloween in the first place? And more importantly, does being a black cat actually make it harder for them to find a home? Unfortunately, research suggests that it can. THE BLACK CAT BIAS According to Robert Carini, an associate professor of sociology at the University of Louisville, black cats can face a disadvantage when it comes to adoption. Carini and his colleagues studied 7,983 cats at an urban Kentucky animal shelter to see whether coat color was associated with adoption and euthanasia outcomes. Their research found that black cats had less favorable outcomes than cats with lighter coats. White cats had the most favorable outcomes, while brown and gray cats fell somewhere in between. The researchers refer to this as "black cat bias," meaning that cats with black coats may be viewed less positively, adopted less often, and face higher euthanasia rates than lighter-colored cats. Now, before anyone starts thinking, Well, black cats must not be as friendly, that's not what the research found. Coat color is only one factor people consider when choosing a cat. Health, personality, age, compatibility with children or other pets, and simply whether someone connects with a particular animal all play a role. But sometimes, the first thing people notice is simply…black. And that can be a problem. WHY ARE PEOPLE AFRAID OF BLACK CATS? A lot of it goes back centuries. Black cats have been associated with witches, the supernatural and bad luck in various cultures. In medieval Europe, black cats became connected with witchcraft and the Devil, and those associations continued through the centuries. Eventually, those old beliefs became part of popular culture. We've all seen the Halloween decorations: a witch, a broomstick, a full moon and a black cat with its back arched and fur standing on end. But here's the funny thing. Black cats aren't actually spooky. They're cats. They still knock things off your counter at 2 a.m. They still demand food five minutes after they were fed. They still chase toys, climb into boxes that are entirely too small for them and decide your lap belongs to them. Their fur just happens to be black. And while some cultures have associated black cats with bad luck, others have considered them lucky. In Japan, for example, black cats have traditionally been associated with good fortune. So even the superstition itself depends on where and when you happen to live. WHAT ABOUT HALLOWEEN? You would probably assume that October would be the perfect month for black cats to find homes. After all, they're practically the unofficial mascot of Halloween! But Carini's research found something interesting: the study's group of approximately 1,200 entirely black cats did not have higher adoption rates during October. So much for the Halloween adoption rush. Some shelters and rescue organizations have historically restricted black-cat adoptions around Halloween because of concerns that someone might adopt a cat for the wrong reasons or use the cat as a Halloween decoration or prop. But Carini notes that these restrictions can actually have unintended consequences. If black cats are harder to adopt during October, they may simply remain in shelters longer. Instead of assuming people will mistreat a black cat because it's Halloween, perhaps the better approach is to use Halloween as an opportunity to show people just how wonderful these cats can be. And that brings me to one particular black cat. MEET CHARGER Our family didn't set out to adopt another cat. We had five already. That was MORE than enough. You've probably heard that one before. Charger started out as a foster through Fresno TNR. And, well…you can probably guess where this story is going. He became a foster fail. We named him Charger, and honestly, he has one of the BEST personalities. This cat is funny. He's playful. He's fearless. He loves riding in the car. And when I say he loves riding in the car, I mean he really loves riding in the car so much we need to check our cars when a car door is left open to make sure he didn't stow away. He also rides around with us on our farm tractor. Yes. You read that correctly. Our black cat rides around on our farm tractor. Charger doesn't seem to have received the memo that cats are supposed to be cautious and mysterious. He is curious about everything and wants to be right in the middle of the action. He plays A LOT. He makes us laugh. And he has completely worked his way into our family. When I look at Charger, I don't see bad luck. I see a goofy, affectionate, fearless cat who got a second chance because someone at Fresno TNR gave him a second chance. And that's really what I hope people remember this Halloween. Don't overlook the black cat sitting quietly in the kennel. Don't assume a black cat will be less friendly, less affectionate or somehow different from another cat simply because of the color of his fur. Take a minute to get to know him. Play with him. Let him come to you. See his personality. Because you might just meet your own hard Charger. And if you do, you may discover that bringing a black cat into your life isn't bad luck at all. It might be one of the luckiest things you've ever done.

Two pregnant mothers. Eight juveniles. One food guy who started doing math. My name is Mac-n-Cheese, commonly referred to as Mac. I’m a girl, despite the name. That's me in the collage, last row, in the middle. Apparently, I'm the ringleader of an organization locals have come to call The Fresno Ten. Ringleader? Whatever. I prefer management. There were ten of us when this whole mess started: the elders, Chicken and Mama, plus the latest eight of their offspring, Cali, Mustache, Grey, Nibbles, Spud, Socks, C.S., and me. We lived in this two-house-wide world we called ours. We showed up for meals, maintained a rodent-free residence, and generally kept to ourselves. No one knows how we got here in the first place, but it’s home. Then Chicken got pregnant again. And Mama got pregnant again. That’s when our food guy, Jeff, started doing math. Why, Jeff? Where’s the food? Until then, our arrangement had been nearly perfect. We showed up hungry. Jeff put out food. We ate. He went back inside. Nobody asked questions about population growth, reproductive habits, or why the same two mothers kept making bad decisions. Now, with eight juveniles standing in front of him and two pregnant mothers, he suddenly realized that ten cats were about to become considerably more than ten. At the time, Jeff had never trapped a cat in his life. His philosophy was simple: none of us asked to be born, so he was going to feed us to make our lives as good as possible. We preferred him that way. Somehow, he found Fresno TNR on Facebook. We hear he spends a lot of time on social media, whatever that is. All of a sudden, he experienced a “WTH?” moment. I don’t know what that means, but it changed EVERYTHING. I’m told humans do that when they realize a solution was within their reach all along, but they were too clueless to notice. This would prove to be a life-changing development for us and, in the end, for Jeff, too. Until that point, Jeff knew absolutely nothing about trapping cats. He had never set a trap, never transported a community cat for surgery, never dealt with recovery, and had no reason to care whether anybody’s ear was tipped. His entire community cat management strategy consisted of opening a food source and placing it on the ground. He made the best Chicken. We considered him highly qualified. It started on a normal weekend. Jeff was inside staring at his computer. By five o’clock Sunday, he was on his way to Tractor Supply. That night, he became a Fresno TNR, Trapper in Training, and began learning how to trap-train. The next day, this metal box appeared. Then this bottle thing connected to a string, then smelly but delicious food. Words were being thrown around like “spay,” “neuter,” “return,” and “recovery.” There was also an unusually large amount of discussion about ears. This went on for what seemed like years. Hey, I’m a cat. I have no concept of time. I had concerns. Dinner had always been served in an open setting with excellent visibility and several convenient exits. Now Jeff wanted us to eat inside something with a handle. We had to walk into the thing, eat, and then back out. What was wrong with the old system? Nobody had complained about the plate. Also, only one of us could fit at a time. Or so I thought. Then one day, Spud was in the thing when the bottle was yanked away and the door slammed shut with a horrendous noise. Oh no! Spud! He went nuts. A few moments later, Jeff showed up with a blanket, covered the whole thing, and carried it away. Our plate of food was back. The metal box was gone. Things were normal again, except we were short one Spud. Then, a year or so later, Spud came back. What? Remember, I’m a cat. Everybody crowded around, peppering him with questions. Where had he been? What had happened? Was there food? He was no help. Then somebody noticed his ear. “Spud! What happened to your ear?” “What are you talking about?” This was going nowhere. You can’t ask someone to look at his own ear, and Spud wasn’t exactly conducting an investigation. He was home. There was food. As far as he was concerned, we needed to move. Then the metal box showed up again. Hmmm. I was confused, so I knew the rest of these intellectually challenged felines had no clue what was happening. This went on for what I can only describe as FOREVER. The box would appear, there would be a loud noise, and then Jeff would carry somebody away. Eventually, that cat would come back, and the box would reappear. It wasn’t unusual for members of the colony to disappear for a few days. Nobody told us what to do or where we could go. But coming home with matching ears was new. You would think we’d have called a meeting. Unfortunately, getting ten cats to pay attention at the same time requires food, and the food was in the box. That was the entire problem. Remember when I said only one of us could fit in there? Apparently, that was a suggestion. On two separate occasions, Jeff managed to trap two cats at once. Two. At once. And then two more. Somebody was already inside eating, and somebody else apparently decided, “Well, I’m not waiting.” We had watched this thing slam shut. We had watched Jeff carry it away. We had seen Spud come home with less ear than he left with. And still, the main concern was that someone else might be eating the good bits. I’d like to tell you I was surrounded by idiots, but I also went in there, so I have to be careful how I phrase that. In our defense, Jeff had spent days making the box seem perfectly safe. You went in, you ate, you came out. Nothing happened. Naturally, the one time you trusted the arrangement, dinner came with transportation. Mama, however, was not impressed. Of all ten of us, she was the hardest to catch. With each passing day, we expected Mama to disappear, only to show up a few weeks later with 4 or 5 new kittens. Jeff could put food in that box, arrange his bottle and string, and get himself ready. Mama was under no obligation to participate. I respected that. Someone needed to remind him that buying a trap did not automatically put him in charge. The younger cats had made this look far too easy. Four of us had practically offered a group discount. Mama was making up for the rest of us. Jeff kept trying, though, and eventually, with some help from Britanie, a seasoned trapper, and a drop trap… Mama was caught. When it happened, it was no more than a day or so, if not hours, before it was too late. That should tell you something about the determination of Fresno TNR volunteers. Most of us were and still are quite standoffish. We figured playing the role of a barn cat was a fair trade for the food and shelter we were provided. Nobody was here to make friends. Then there was Nibbles. He got his name from nibbling on Jeff’s fingers when he fed us that world-famous chicken. Nibbles is the friendliest of us. Jeff is especially attached to him, and Nibbles did nothing to discourage this. Some of us were trying to figure out why our meals now involved a door. Nibbles was busy having a relationship. Honestly, read the room. It’s difficult to complain about the food guy when one of your own keeps providing him with positive feedback. I had concerns about his methods. Nibbles was a satisfied customer. I considered taking the matter to C.S., but that was unlikely to accomplish anything. You see, C.S. is short for Customer Service. He has markings that look like a headset microphone running from his ear toward his mouth. He looks as though he’s about to say, "Thank you for calling. How may I help you?” He is not. You can explain your entire problem to C.S., and he will sit there looking qualified until something moves in the bushes. Then your call has been disconnected. So I was on my own. As Jeff worked his way through getting us fixed, he learned just how much his new hobby was accomplishing. Three of us young females turned out to be pregnant too, and we juveniles were only about twelve to sixteen weeks old. Each discovery was another litter he was preventing, another reason he was glad he’d started. Five pregnancies among ten cats. Fine. Apparently, the food guy knew what he was doing. Nobody tell Nibbles. He’s already unbearable. With help from Fresno TNR, Jeff got all ten of us spayed or neutered. We went through recovery and came home to our familiar little world, where I assumed we could finally get back to a normal meal schedule. But Jeff had developed a new habit. He was looking at ears. Previously, a cat could pass through the neighborhood without having its head inspected. Now Jeff noticed who had an ear tip and who didn’t. There were still neighborhood males who needed fixing, and unfortunately for them, our food guy now knew how to do it. He kept going. Eventually, the man who had never trapped a cat in his life had personally TNR’d fifteen. We had accidentally trained him. Around our two houses, life carried on. Chicken and Mama were still here. Nibbles remained shamelessly friendly. Mustache was still pretty cool. Cali, Grey, Spud, Socks, and C.S. continued doing whatever they pleased. And I continued supervising. Jeff says I’m the biggest pain in the ass. He also says I’m probably the boss. I’m pleased he’s beginning to understand the structure. The difference was that our family stopped getting bigger. No more litters from Chicken or Mama. No kittens having kittens. Just the same ten cats, home again, with a food guy who now knew how to help us beyond filling a plate. I’ll give him that. He did a good thing. But I don’t want him getting the wrong idea. Nibbles can handle employee appreciation. I have standards to maintain. Jeff? That’s fifteen cats. We’ve counted them. You can stop doing math now. Where’s the Chicken?

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Start Here Finding yourself surrounded by unaltered community cats can feel overwhelming. Maybe there are several cats in your neighborhood. Maybe kittens keep appearing. Maybe you want to help but are not sure how to start. Maybe cost, trapping, transportation, or recovery space is the biggest concern. You are not alone, and you do not have to figure it out by yourself. Fresno TNR exists to help community and feral cats through Trap-Neuter-Return, also known as TNR. The goal is simple: get cats fixed, vaccinated, ear-tipped when appropriate, and returned to their outdoor home so the cycle of repeated litters can stop. Step One: Join the Fresno TNR Facebook Group The best first step is to join the Fresno TNR Facebook Group and spend some time reviewing the posts. This is where you can see how the process works, how people ask for help, how trapping situations are handled, and how sponsorship requests are posted. Reading through existing posts can answer many common questions and help you understand what information admins and volunteers need before a plan can be made. Please note: We do not offer scheduled appointments We do not find homes for cats We do not trap cats for the public We do provide education and guidance on trapping feral and community cats Step Two: Message an Admin Before Trapping Before trapping any cats, please send a direct message to a Fresno TNR admin and explain the situation. Helpful information includes: How many cats need to be fixed Whether the cats are friendly, feral, or unknown Whether any cats appear pregnant, sick, injured, or nursing Whether you can trap Whether you can transport Whether you have a safe recovery area What type of help you need most Once an admin understands the situation, they can help create a plan. Please do not trap until you have an appointment, approval, or clear instructions from Fresno TNR. Trapping without a plan can create problems if appointments are full, if there is no recovery space, or if the cat cannot safely be held. Step Three: Follow the Plan Every situation is different. Some people can trap and transport on their own. Some need trapping help. Some need transportation help. Some need guidance because they have never done TNR before. Admin and volunteers will help determine the next steps based on the number of cats, the condition of the cats, appointment availability, volunteer availability, and the urgency of the situation. Pregnant, sick, injured, or high-risk cats may need to be handled differently, so it is important to provide as much information as possible. What If You Cannot afford the Full Cost? If cost is a concern, please pay what you can. Fresno TNR does not require sponsorship to be in place before cats are TNR’d. Sponsorship is typically requested once the cat has been approved for drop-off or has already been dropped off. A sponsorship post in the Facebook group should include: Clear photos of the cat or cats The number of cats needing sponsorship The cost per cat The Fresno TNR donation link A note asking donors to write “sponsor for [your name]” when they donate Looking at other sponsorship posts in the group is the easiest way to see how these requests are usually written. Every Cat Fixed Matters It may feel like there are too many cats to make a difference, but every single cat fixed matters. One surgery can prevent future litters, reduce fighting and mating behaviors, and improve life for both the cats and the neighborhood. The most important thing is to start with the right process: join the group, read the posts, message an admin, and make a plan before trapping. Together, we can stop the cycle one cat at a time. Additional Information and Resources FresnoTNR/faq Support our Lifesaving Work In-person information is available at our facility: 7425 N. Palm Bluffs Ave., Suite #103 Monday–Friday | 3:00 PM – 6:00 PM

The answers were incredible! Linda Rodriquez wrote: Mike AKA Michael Myers. She will literally chase and attack you for no reason. We’re scared to death of her. She’s the block psychopath!! ♥️♥️♥️ (She is fixed! We think someone dumped her because she’s scary!) Mike AKA Michael Myers Mr. Boombastic Lindsay Rodriguez wrote: I have another one!!!!! This is Mr. Boombastic. Like the song!!! 🎵 He thinks he’s so hot!!! Lmao 😂😅♥️ Lacie Goodlett wrote: Idk about best name but here’s Big Sexy .. comes to my house to eat and I’ve seen him in different neighborhoods. Have not been able to trap him. I look forward to the day I get him an ear tip and he can retire 😂 Big Sexy Nicole Gatlin wrote: We have had Gray Balls; he fathered a few kittens. Slim, he is the most slender out of them all. Fluff N Stuff was long haired and very fluffy. Mama, self explanatory. Grumpy Guss, he looks rough and grumpy and doesn't let us get close. Karen, she just showed up one day and demanded attention, was mouthy and took over like she owned the place. Big Head, his head was HUGE for his body. Junior, the look a like son of Gray Balls. This is Balls. The main inspiration for the story: A Formal Complaint from Big Frankie Wayne Solomon wrote: My friend named one of her feral TNRs “big balls.” That was before he got neutered. Ursula Manton Thielen replied to Wayne Solomon: I had a stray by the name of Big Balls, after trapping and snipping him - we called him No Balls. He was a very sweet cat… Jeff VanOrnam replied to both Wayne and Ursula: Seems that's pretty common. I have big balls as well. He is the father of A LOT of community cats around here. He is now TNR'd, and I call him still call him Balls. The coolest part is he used to be impossible to pet because of the scabs and gashes on his head and neck. Now he is soft and smooth. TNR works!!! He is the inspiration for a feature article in the upcoming September issue of the Fresno TNR Newsletter. Peggy Nemeth wrote: This is Edgar (the haircut). iykyk Edgar Dump Truck Danika Jones wrote: Her name was Dump Truck. Somehow, despite nursing 8 kittens and being a barn cat hunting for most meals, she was thicccc Celestia Luna wrote: Fleabag 🦗 I called him that because he annoyed me since he technically belonged to the neighbor and would always steal my ferals food. But they always left him to roam as he pleased and he wasn't fixed. So I hoodwinked him because he was always at my house and got him snipped but not tipped so they wouldn't know he was super sweet and I loved and cared for him like my own cat. Eventually he moved away with his family but at least he was fixed! Jeff VanOrnam replied: You are a good human! Fleabag Honey Tyller Campbell wrote: This is Larry Flynt Hustler Honey… Honey for short. She is very persistent, like a stripper Tyller Campbell wrote: This is Frankie… aka Frankenstein. Her tail literally fell off while I was bathing her (she had a crazy tail scab, I shouldnt have done that because it softened and the other half just slipped off 😭!) she has rightfully earned that name. She is wild and her tail healed perfect after a few vet visits. She’s my most expensive “feral” kitty Frankie Bigfoot Brittany Escamilla wrote: Meet Bigfoot Amy Lynn wrote: My rescued baby girl, Soup. Soup Smooth Operator Michal Phillips wrote: His name is Bolt, but I call him the Smooth Operator because he's so chill. Anna Gabrielle wrote: Does it count if she made it out of the community?? 😆 We ended up fostering her, and she was adopted 2 years ago through rescue. She was too sweet for the streets. We miss her every day! Her name was Strange Baby Strange Baby Keebler La wrote: Mrs. Fluffybottom. Ended up being Mr. Fluffybottom Lori Harkins wrote: Turnip... Neighbors' tuxedo kitty man. Kimberlye Thalheimer wrote: Not a community cat but one of our fosters my daughter named aye I’m walkin ere. Gotta say it in a Brooklyn accent. Creature Cheyanne Smith wrote: Her name was Creature. We took care of her for about a year and a half before she was attacked by a dog while I was at work. Broke my heart. We got her cremated, and she's up with my personal pets' urns 😞💔 Jeff VanOrnam wrote: This is Nibbles. Before TNR, he was the only one who would let me get close, and he used to nibble on my finger when I fed them chicken. Since TNR, he still does it 6 months later. Nibbles Jane Hernandez wrote: Sandwich Sandra Olmos wrote: Batman!! My black beauty, she only wants to be free as a bird!!! It is our community cat, but she knows she can hide in our back patio!!! She has been TNr when we met her, tried to domesticate her to no avail! Love her to pieces Reggie but his Government Name is Reginald Esquire III Laura MacPherson wrote: We call him Reggie, but his Government Name is Reginald Esquire III Jen Eden wrote: We had a neighborhood Manx who was really rough looking named Creature. I never could catch him. The neighbors had a feral they called Cookie Dough. The momma I'm trying to get near my apartment is Moira Rose and the babies she had are all Bebe. Nick Keller wrote: Dude A huge thank you to all who contributed to this fun and exciting post. Keep an eye out for more fun group participation posts coming soon! Rocky Hi, I'm Rocky! I'm a rescue from Fresno Animal Center in Fresno. I saved my new human from being lonely after he lost a precious buddy!

The following is a work of fiction inspired by very real community cats. My name is Frankie. Big Frankie, if we’re being respectful. For nearly six years, I was the undisputed ruler of a three-block territory in Fresno that stretched from the apartment dumpster on the west side all the way to the house with the dead grass and cockroach problem on the east. It was a good territory. Plenty of shade. Several dependable food sources. A woman named Darlene who put out Friskies every morning at exactly 6:30. A guy in the middle of the block who served grilled chicken all the time. I think he was lonely. I had everything a cat could want. Food. Freedom. Several girlfriends. Actually, more than several. There have been accusations regarding my involvement in the unusually high number of orange kittens born in the neighborhood between 2021 and 2025. Those allegations remain unproven. I also handled security. Possums knew better than to linger. Other tomcats required authorization. Dogs were monitored. The mailman was suspicious, but I never gathered enough evidence to make a move. Life was good. Until the tuna incident. It happened on a Tuesday. At approximately 6:12 in the morning, I smelled something magnificent. Tuna. Not the cheap stuff either. This was serious tuna. The kind of tuna that makes a tomcat reconsider his principles. I followed the smell and discovered it sitting inside a strange metal box near Darlene’s driveway. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Frankie, you’re an experienced street cat. Surely you recognized a trap. Correct. I recognized it immediately. I am not stupid. I simply believed I could outsmart it. There is a difference. I put one paw inside. Nothing happened. Second paw. Still nothing. I looked around. No humans. Excellent. I stepped farther inside. The tuna was right there. I took one bite. CLANG. I would now like to formally state that I have never been more betrayed by a fish. I spun around. The door was shut. I pushed it. Nothing. I pulled it. Nothing. I yelled. A lot. Darlene appeared. “Oh, Frankie! We finally got you!” Got me? Lady, I eat on your patio four mornings a week. You know where I live. Then another woman appeared carrying a towel. The towel went over the trap. Suddenly everything got dark. And I heard the words that would change my life forever. “He’s going to get neutered today.” I did not know exactly what “neutered” meant. But nobody had ever said it while laughing and pointing at my backside before, so I assumed it wasn’t good. I would love to tell you I faced the situation with dignity. I did not. There were threats. There was screaming. There was language unbecoming of a community cat. At one point, I attempted to bite a towel. Not my finest moment. Eventually, we arrived at some sort of building filled with other cats. There was a picture of a metal cage-looking thing that resembled what I was trapped in. I could hear them. Some were complaining. Some were quiet. One guy three traps down kept insisting he had an attorney. Nobody believed him. Then things got fuzzy. Very fuzzy. And when I woke up, several disturbing developments had occurred. First, my right ear appeared to be missing a small piece. Second, I felt strange. Third, and most importantly, a routine inventory revealed that certain personal belongings were no longer attached to my body. I checked twice. Gone. I would like the record to show that nobody asked permission. The next day, I was returned to my neighborhood. The trap door opened. I walked out slowly because I was still slightly groggy and because dramatic exits require timing. I turned around and stared directly at Darlene. She smiled. “Welcome home, Frankie.” I wanted her to know this wasn’t over. So I gave her the angriest look I could possibly produce. Then I went under her patio table and ate two cans of food. Protests require calories. For the next several weeks, I remained furious. I was furious at Darlene. I was furious at Fresno T.N.R. I was furious at tuna. Most of all, I was furious because something strange was happening. I didn’t feel like fighting anymore. This was concerning. Normally, if another tomcat entered my territory, every cell in my body screamed, "DESTROY HIM.” Now I found myself thinking things like, “He’s kind of far away. Maybe this doesn’t concern me.” I stopped roaming three streets over looking for females. I stopped coming home with cuts on my face. The giant scar on my shoulder finally healed because nobody kept reopening it. I slept more. I gained a little weight. Fine, I gained quite a bit of weight. Darlene began referring to me as “handsome and chunky.” I considered this disrespectful. Then winter came. One night, it was cold and raining hard. I was sleeping in the insulated shelter Darlene had put beside her garage. I had previously refused to use this shelter because I believed accepting housing assistance might damage my reputation. But it had a heated pad. A cat has limits. Sometime after midnight, I heard something outside. Tiny. Barely audible. Meow. I ignored it. Meow. Still ignored it. Meow. I stuck my head outside. There was a kitten standing in the rain. He was maybe eight weeks old. Skinny. Wet. Pathetic. One eye was crusted shut. His fur was plastered against his body. He looked like a dirty sock with legs. I stared at him. He stared at me. “No.” He took one step toward the shelter. “No.” Another step. “This is a single-occupancy unit.” He crawled inside. I hissed. He curled himself into a ball against the far wall and started shaking. I had every intention of throwing him out. Absolutely every intention. Instead, I moved closer. Just slightly. For warmth. Mine, obviously. Not his. By morning, the little idiot was asleep with his face buried against my stomach. Darlene found us that way. I have never seen a human become emotional so quickly. “Oh my God, Frankie!” She took pictures. Several. This was a serious violation of my privacy. The kitten went away for a few days. Apparently, he had an infection, fleas, worms, and something called an upper respiratory infection. I assumed that would be the end of it. Then he came back. To Darlene’s house. Inside. His name was Bean. Bean. I spent six years building a reputation as Big Frankie, King of the Alley, and now I was associated with someone named Bean. At first, I watched him through the sliding glass door. He would run toward me whenever he saw me. I ignored him. He would paw at the glass. Ignored him. He would roll upside down. Ignored him. Then one afternoon, Darlene opened the door. Bean came flying outside and ran directly into me. Not toward me. Into me. Face first. He bounced backward, shook his head, and then immediately tried again. I looked at Darlene. She shrugged. “Looks like you have a friend.” Incorrect. I had a problem. Unfortunately, the problem followed me everywhere. If I went to the patio, Bean went to the patio. If I lay in the sun, Bean lay on top of me. If I ate, Bean attempted to eat from my bowl despite having his own bowl approximately eighteen inches away. I taught him important things. How to wash his face. Where to sit when Darlene opened a can. Why we do not chase bees. That last lesson required repetition. He taught me things too. Mostly patience. And apparently something called affection. I did not care for it at first. Then one day I caught myself grooming his ears. I immediately stopped. Nobody had seen. Except Darlene. Naturally, she took another picture. Months passed. Bean grew. His eye cleared up. His coat became soft and shiny. He stopped looking like a dirty sock and started looking like an actual cat. And somewhere along the way, I forgot he wasn’t mine. Then one Saturday morning, strangers came to the house. A woman. A man. A little girl. Bean came running when the girl sat on the floor. He climbed directly into her lap. Traitor. They stayed a long time. There was laughing. There was paperwork. Then Darlene brought out a blue carrier. I knew carriers. Carriers were never good. Bean went inside. The little girl carried him toward the door. I followed. Darlene crouched beside me. “It’s okay, Frankie. He found his home.” Home? His home was here. His home was my shelter. His home was stealing my food. His home was biting my tail while I slept. His home was wherever I was. The door closed. The car drove away. And Bean disappeared. That night, I waited by the sliding glass door. The next morning too. For three days, I checked the driveway every time I heard a car. I didn’t eat much. Darlene sat beside me on the patio. She scratched behind my ear. The tipped one. “You did good, Frankie.” I didn’t understand. I hadn’t done anything. I was just a cat. A formerly handsome, improperly altered cat who had made one catastrophic tuna-related decision. Then Darlene showed me something on her phone. Bean. He was stretched across the little girl’s bed. He had a collar. Toys everywhere. A window overlooking a backyard. And beside him was the blue mouse he used to drag all over Darlene’s house. I stared at the picture for a long time. He looked happy. Really happy. I realized something then. Bean hadn’t lost his home. He had found it. I had just been part of the trip. It has been almost a year now. I’m still here. I patrol a considerably smaller territory these days. Mostly Darlene’s yard. Occasionally the driveway. I have retired from security work. The possums can handle themselves. Several other cats in the neighborhood have mysteriously developed the same little notch in their ears. Apparently, Fresno T.N.R. has been busy. There are fewer fights now. Fewer kittens too. A young orange tom showed up last month. Skinny guy. Full of attitude. Reminded me of myself. He tried to pick a fight with me near the garage. I walked away. He seemed confused. A few mornings later, I smelled tuna. I looked across the yard. There it was. Metal box. Tuna inside. The orange kid was circling it. I knew exactly what was coming. He looked at me. I looked at him. For just a second, I considered warning him. Then I remembered the fights. The infected shoulder. The nights I disappeared for days. Bean trembling in the rain. The blue carrier. The picture on Darlene’s phone. I sat down. The kid stepped into the trap. CLANG. He lost his mind. I walked over and sat beside him. He screamed something I cannot repeat in a family newsletter. I stayed anyway. Darlene came outside carrying a towel. She looked at me. I looked at her. Neither of us said anything. She covered his trap. And for the first time, I understood. I had spent years believing the people with the traps were taking something from us. Sometimes they are. I can personally confirm that. But that isn’t the whole story. Because on one Tuesday morning, I walked into a metal box chasing tuna. I lost two things that day. And somehow, I got the rest of my life back. For the record, however, I still believe the tuna was entrapment. Subscribe today.

Twenty-six thousand cats. In 2026. That is a milestone worth celebrating. This year, Fresno TNR officially crossed the 26,000 mark for cats spayed and neutered, giving us one of those rare moments where the number and the year line up perfectly: 26K in ’26. It sounds catchy, but behind those four words are thousands of individual cats, thousands of hours of work, and thousands of people who chose to help. Every one of those 26,000 cats has a story. Some were community cats living behind businesses, in apartment complexes, alleys, neighborhoods, or backyards. Some were friendly cats whose caregivers simply needed access to affordable spay and neuter services. Some were mothers who will never again have to struggle to raise another litter. Others were roaming males whose lives are now safer and healthier because someone took the time to trap, transport, and return them. And none of it happened because of one person. It happened because volunteers set traps before sunrise and picked them up after dark. It happened because people transported cats, cleaned equipment, worked events, answered messages, coordinated appointments, donated money, sponsored surgeries, shared posts, and stepped up whenever help was needed. It happened because someone saw a cat and decided, “I’m going to do something.” One cat became ten. Ten became one hundred. One hundred became one thousand. And eventually, all of those individual acts of compassion became something extraordinary: 26,000 cats spayed and neutered in 2026. To celebrate 26K in ’26, Fresno TNR has released special commemorative shirts for both men and women, with multiple colors and design options available. Order your 26K in ’26 commemorative shirt here: https://www.customink.com/fundraising/26000 They are more than just shirts. They represent every trap set, every early morning, every late night, every donation, every volunteer hour, and every person who helped push that number a little higher. So wear one proudly. Because 26K in ’26 is not just Fresno TNR’s milestone. It belongs to everyone who helped make it happen. And as proud as we are of 26,000, there are still more cats waiting for help. 26K in ’26. Now let’s see how far we can go.

Nobody wakes up one morning and says, “You know what my life is missing? A small colony of cats in my backyard.” It usually starts with one. You notice a cat hanging around. Maybe you see it under the car a few times. Maybe it watches you from across the yard. You tell yourself it probably belongs to somebody. Then one evening, it’s still there. So you put out a little food. Just this once. That is generally how it begins. The next day the cat is back, because cats are very good at remembering where free meals happen. You feed it again. Now you’ve established a pattern, although you probably don’t realize it yet. A week later, you’ve bought actual cat food instead of whatever was left in the refrigerator. There’s a water bowl outside. You’ve started referring to the cat as “he,” despite having absolutely no idea whether it’s a he. Then another cat appears. This was not part of the agreement. You feed that one too, because apparently you have no backbone. Before long, you begin learning things you never expected to know. You can tell which cat is coming by the sound of the meow. You know who eats first, who waits until everyone leaves, and who will only approach if you pretend you aren’t looking. You also discover that cats apparently communicate. “Hey, there’s a house over here. The food is pretty good. Human seems trainable.” Then somebody shows up pregnant. That’s usually when the situation changes from, “I’m feeding a couple of cats,” to, “Okay, I need to do something.” And that “something” is where TNR comes in. Trap. Neuter. Return. It sounds simple until you’re standing in your yard before sunrise, whispering, “Come on... just go in the trap,” to a cat who has suddenly developed the survival instincts of a CIA operative. But eventually, the trap closes. The cat is spayed or neutered, vaccinated, ear-tipped, and returned to the place it already considers home. Then you do the next one. And the next. Something interesting happens after that. The population stops growing. There are no new litters every few months. The males tend to roam and fight less. The colony settles down. The cats you once worried were multiplying faster than you could help them become a manageable little group of familiar faces. You still feed them. Of course you do. By now you’ve named everybody. Big Frankie There’s probably one you can pet, one you’re convinced will eventually let you pet them, and one who has lived in your yard for three years and still looks at you like you personally caused every bad thing that has ever happened. But they’re healthier. They’re safer. And there aren’t fifteen new kittens hiding under the shed. That’s the part people sometimes miss about TNR. It isn’t always a dramatic rescue. Most of the time, it’s ordinary people noticing a cat, deciding not to look the other way, and doing one small thing. Sometimes it really does start with nothing more than a bowl of food. The important part is knowing what to do next.

When most 14-year-olds hear the words "Saturday morning," they're probably thinking about sleeping in. Alyssa Doty is usually thinking about cats, owls, rodeo, and what needs to get done. Alyssa is one of Fresno T.N.R.'s youngest volunteers. She's been volunteering with Fresno T.N.R. since she was 12, but volunteering is certainly nothing new for her. In fact, by the time she started helping Fresno T.N.R., Alyssa had already been volunteering for about 10 years. It started when Alyssa's mom, Juliet, a Fresno T.N.R. volunteer and newsletter staff writer, brought a couple of cats to Brandi's house to be fixed. At the time, Brandi was operating Fresno T.N.R. out of her home. "My mom was so taken with what Brandi was doing from her house, she asked if she could help," Alyssa says. "We started cleaning cages when Brandi was operating out of her cat room at her house. We cleaned kennels and traps over there many weekends." And Alyssa was right there alongside her mom. But helping with Fresno T.N.R. wasn't Alyssa’s first experience with animal rescue. She Started Really Young Mom has volunteered with Fresno Wildlife for years, and since most of the rehabbing back then was in home care, Alyssa helped. "I would cut up chicks and mice and feed the owlets we were rehabbing," Alyssa recalls. When Alyssa was asked why she volunteers, she gives an answer that is probably familiar to anyone who grew up in a family where volunteering was simply part of life. "I really didn't have a choice in the beginning. My mom needed help, and I was told to help. But now I enjoy it." And she certainly does more than just show up. Many Saturday and Sunday mornings, Alyssa gets up early and heads to Fresno T.N.R. with her mom. She helps clean kennels, administer medications, assist with intake, and do whatever else needs to be done. She also helps foster cats for Fresno T.N.R. "We have fostered eight so far this year," she says. Fostering is one of Alyssa's favorite parts of volunteering. She especially enjoys helping cats recover from injuries or leg amputations. And, of course, there's the part she doesn't mind at all: getting to snuggle with them. From Cats to Owls Fresno T.N.R. isn't Alyssa's only volunteer commitment. She continues to volunteer with Fresno Wildlife, which is especially close to home, literally. Her family has a mew, an aviary for raptors, on their property. "We usually rehab three to five great horned owls a year and release them at the beginning of October," she explains. "I am responsible for feeding them in the evening and helping clean the mew, my least favorite job." We can't blame her for having a least favorite job. Alyssa's foster kitty Alyssa also volunteers at Fresno Animal Center, primarily during Animal Balance events. Her responsibilities can include assisting veterinarians with wellness checks, transporting dogs and cats to surgery, and assembling surgical packs. And then there's the California Junior Cowboys Association. Volunteering Doesn't Stop at the Barn Door Alyssa is an active rodeo competitor. She competes in pole bending, goat tying, breakaway roping, as well as heading and heeling in team roping. CJCA is one of the organizations where she competes, but she doesn't just show up to compete. "They always need help, so I help hold goats, set up poles, or haze," she says. It seems that wherever Alyssa goes, she finds a way to help. Why Does She Do It? When asked whether she thinks volunteering is important, Alyssa doesn't hesitate. "Yes. There are adults that I volunteer with at Fresno T.N.R. who do a lot. If more people did a little volunteering, it would lighten the load for the people who are doing a lot." That's a pretty simple philosophy, but it's an important one. Rescue organizations, wildlife rehabilitators, animal shelters, youth organizations, and countless other nonprofits depend on volunteers. Not everyone has the time to do everything, but almost everyone can do something. A couple of hours cleaning kennels matters. Feeding an owl matters. Holding a goat matters. Helping an injured cat recover matters. And when enough people do a little, the people carrying the biggest loads don't have to carry them alone. A Proud Mom Juliet says she couldn't be prouder of her daughter. "I am extremely proud of Alyssa. She comes with me 99% of the time and never complains. She does it with a happy heart and wants to serve." For Juliet, volunteering is also part of the values she hopes to instill in her daughter. "As Christians, volunteering is part of stewardship: time, talent, treasure, and I'm raising Alyssa to be a good steward." And Alyssa has gained much more than volunteer hours along the way. She's learned practical skills, medical and animal-care skills, responsibility, and how to work alongside people of all ages. "Alyssa is extremely competent," Juliet says. "I don't know many kids that would get up on a Saturday at 6 a.m., feed all their own animals, and then go volunteer. Most kids want to sleep till noon." There is one thing Juliet doesn't have to worry about, though. "I'm very glad she's my daughter, and I can volunteer with her. It’s memories I hold very dear." It Takes All of Us Alyssa's story is a great reminder you don't have to wait until you're an adult to make a difference. You don't need a special title. You don't need to be an expert. And you don't have to do everything. You just have to be willing to help. For Alyssa, that willingness started with doing what her mom needed when she was little. Somewhere along the way, "I have to help" turned into "I want to help." And now, at 14, she's helping cats, kittens, owls, dogs, rodeo competitors, and the organizations that care for them. Fresno T.N.R. is incredibly fortunate to have volunteers like Alyssa who show up, get their hands dirty, and do the work that needs to be done. Because sometimes the biggest difference isn't made by one person doing something extraordinary. It's made by people like Alyssa, doing their little part with a happy heart.

Shannon Ragsdale did not set out to become one of Fresno TNR’s most dedicated trappers. Like many people who find their way into rescue, it started with a few kittens who needed help. Shannon works as an appraiser for the Fresno County Assessor-Recorder’s Office. She spends three days a week in the office and two days in the field, and she genuinely enjoys what she does. She is one of the top producers on her team and in her office, and she recently received some of the highest praise in her yearly performance review. When she is not working, trapping, fostering, or volunteering with Fresno TNR, Shannon enjoys hockey. She loves going to games with her daughter and cheering on the Fresno Monsters. She is a huge Chicago Blackhawks fan, and when they are not playing in California, she supports her second favorite team, the San Jose Sharks. Shannon calls her three-year mark with Fresno TNR her “Cataversary.” She started working with Brandi and Fresno TNR in July 2023, but the path that brought her here began before that. Her daughter’s boyfriend and his roommate found a litter of tiny kittens on their patio. They were so small that Shannon had to syringe feed them. Not long after, someone posted about kittens in the McDonald’s parking lot in Kerman. Shannon went to get them. She was able to pick one up, but the other one made her work a little harder. She brought them home, began fostering them, and once they were tame, she found them homes. Those kittens made her a foster mom, and from there, her place in rescue only grew. Shannon started talking with Shawna, the director of Focus in Kerman, who helped her learn about fostering and rescuing kittens. At first, Shannon fostered kittens and mamas with babies. About two years later, she began doing TNR through Fresno TNR. She already knew Brandi from childhood, since Brandi was her sister’s age and they had gone to school together. Before long, Shannon was trapping and volunteering with Fresno TNR. Today, Shannon helps in more ways than just trapping and fostering. She has a gift for research, so she helps search for grants, while another volunteer, Juliet Doty, who enjoys writing them, handles the grant-writing side. The two began looking for funding opportunities after Fresno TNR acquired its facility and needed steady support to help pay for it. Their work has since grown to include efforts with Central Valley Community Foundation, State Farm, and more. Shannon also spends many Fridays volunteering at the facility. She helps with the everyday work that keeps things moving, including cleaning traps and transfer cages, moving cats from transfer cages back into their carriers, checking cats out to trappers, answering trapping questions, and helping wherever she is needed. Since Shannon began trapping in Kerman, she has TNR’d 412 cats and sent 282 kittens to rescue. At one point, she had 30 fosters in her care, including moms with babies. She also had one feral adult cat and one friendly adult cat. What keeps her going is the hope of seeing fewer kittens born outside and knowing that more cats are getting the help they need. She has helped so many people in Kerman who were overwhelmed and didn't know what to do. Without her, many of them would have been drowning in kittens. One of Shannon’s most memorable colony stories involved a self-employed mechanic who had a large number of cats on and around his property. The cats kept having kittens, and he felt completely overwhelmed. He lived in an apartment next to his family’s house, and there were cats everywhere. They were coming out from under vehicles, behind bushes, under steps, and all around the property. Shannon helped TNR 12 cats and sent 20 kittens to rescue. The man was so thankful that he now helps her in return. When he is driving around town and sees a colony or hears about one from someone else, he finds Shannon and lets her know. What started as one person needing help has become a partnership that allows her to reach cats she might otherwise never have known about. For Shannon, kittens are one of the biggest challenges. Not because she does not love to have them around, but because there is never enough room. She tries to move kittens to rescue as quickly as she can so she can help more, but she also wants to make sure they are healthy and socialized before they go. One part of the work Shannon has had to grow into is approaching people she has never met. TNR often means walking into unfamiliar situations, starting conversations, and asking people to trust you with the cats they care about. Shannon often traps alone, so she has learned to rely on her own patience, instincts, and determination. Still, having a trapping partner from time to time would make the long nights, tough cases, and emotional parts of the work easier to carry. Her advice to anyone new to TNR is simple. “Just jump in and start. If you don't start, you'll never get anywhere. Ask lots of questions and don’t be afraid to make mistakes. We have all made mistakes and will make new mistakes, but that is how we learn and how we help more cats.” Shannon believes readers can best support Fresno TNR by donating when they can, spreading the word about what Fresno TNR does, and stepping up to trap in their own neighborhoods. So many people are afraid to trap or to take the first step. Shannon understands that fear, but she also believes no one is incapable of helping in some way. Ask for help, learn as you go, and be willing to do the work. "And most importantly, Volunteer! There is always something you can do."

On July 3, 2026, Fresno TNR hosted its first free vaccine clinic, made possible through the generous support of Petco Love. We partnered with Westside Rescue to provide vaccines for both cats and dogs and reach even more families in our community. During the clinic, we vaccinated 125 cats and approximately 75 dogs. Petco Love provided enough vaccines for 250 cats and 250 dogs, so the impact of the event continued even after the clinic ended. The remaining cat vaccines were distributed to the public through the Fresno TNR facility, while Westside Rescue distributed the remaining dog vaccines through its community outreach efforts. One very friendly German Shepherd mix received much-needed help for ticks that covered him from head to toe. Despite everything he had been through, he was gentle, well-behaved, and incredibly lovable. His previous owner had sadly passed away, and the owner’s extended family had been doing their best to care for him while searching for a permanent home. Westside Rescue was able to step in and help him begin his search for a wonderful new family. What began as a visit to the vaccine clinic became the start of an entirely new chapter in his life. One of the cats vaccinated that day turned out to be very pregnant, much to her owner’s surprise. According to the owner, she had never been allowed outside. Fortunately, Fresno TNR was also holding a spay and neuter event that day, and we were able to fit her in for a spay-abort procedure, preventing another unwanted litter from being born. The clinic also gave community members an opportunity to learn more about the other services Fresno TNR provides and take additional steps toward giving their pets healthier futures. Many people were surprised to learn that we offer low-cost vaccines during normal business hours, along with affordable flea treatment, dewormer, and microchips. Volunteers were also available to educate the public about how to humanely trap community cats living in their neighborhoods and surrounding areas. They answered questions, explained the trapping process, and directed pet owners to additional resources for affordable spay and neuter services. Our first free vaccine clinic was a wonderful success, but its impact extended far beyond a single day. Hundreds of vaccines were placed directly into the hands of the people who needed them, pets received important protection and care, and community members learned about resources that can help them continue caring for their animals. We are grateful for the opportunity to provide these services to our community. We are especially thankful to Petco Love for making this event possible and to Westside Rescue for partnering with us to ensure both cats and dogs received the care they needed.

When I interviewed Cindy Curry, one thing became clear very quickly: Cindy is someone who sees a need and chooses to help. Cindy is a single mother to one son, works full time, and spends much of her free time volunteering with Fresno TNR. She also enjoys reading, crocheting, spending time with her son, and caring for her many animals. At home, Cindy has four cats, three dogs, and a parrot. As though that were not enough, she also fosters cats with serious medical needs. She usually cares for cats with cryptococcosis and currently has five of them in her care. Cindy first discovered Fresno TNR in 2022 after finding a lost cat in her yard. She searched Facebook for groups where she could post about the cat and came across Fresno TNR. That one small action eventually led her to become an important part of the organization. These days, Cindy primarily helps with intake at the Fresno TNR facility. She also assists with vaccinations, helps Brandi with medication dosing, and cares for what she affectionately calls the “eyeball kitties,” cats who arrive with severe eye infections. When I asked Cindy what she enjoys most about volunteering, she spoke about the people involved. “I really enjoy seeing the community engagement,” she said. “I enjoy meeting the trappers.” One cat Cindy will never forget is Moose. Cindy first learned about Moose through a Facebook post and went to pick him up. She immediately realized that he was far too friendly to be returned to where he had been living. “He was just the absolute sweetest cat,” Cindy recalled. After Moose was neutered and his mange was brought under control, he became the Fresno TNR shop cat. Everyone loved him, and his sweet personality made him a special part of the organization. Sadly, Moose was with Fresno TNR for only about four months before his liver and kidneys failed. Although his time there was brief, he spent those final months surrounded by people who loved and cared for him. “He was so loved and had such a great personality,” Cindy said. “I still get teary thinking about him.” Volunteering with Fresno TNR has given Cindy a sense of purpose and reinforced how important this work truly is. What keeps her motivated is the knowledge that the need is not going away. “We’re not running out of cats,” she said. “We still fill all of the spots every week. There is so much more to be done.” Cindy is especially proud of the new skills she has learned from Brandi. She is also proud that she pushed herself beyond her comfort zone and made the decision to volunteer. When I asked what she wishes more people understood about community cats and TNR, her answer was simple but powerful. “They’re everyone’s responsibility,” she said. “Helping them shows you care.” Her advice for anyone thinking about volunteering or trapping is just as direct. “Just come in and show up,” Cindy said. “Don’t be afraid to come in and help. There is plenty to do for all skill sets.” After speaking with Cindy, I kept thinking about how easy it is to notice the desperate needs of community cats and look the other way. Cindy could have chosen to use her limited free time entirely for herself, but instead, she took one small step. She volunteered, found her niche, and became an amazing volunteer and an invaluable asset to Fresno TNR. This interview was eye-opening for me as well. It reminded me that there is always something we can contribute to help the cause. We do not all have to foster medically fragile cats, administer medications, or take on the most difficult jobs. Sometimes, helping begins by simply walking through the door and asking what needs to be done. Whether the action is big or small, each of us can make a difference in the lives of community cats and in our community. Cindy is proof of what can happen when someone decides not to look the other way.

Sometimes the stories that stick with you are the ones that seem almost too unbelievable to be true. About six weeks ago, my coworker Shannon Ragsdale, a dedicated volunteer with Fresno TNR and other rescue organizations throughout the Fresno area, and I were alerted to a cat living in the basement of our downtown parking garage. Because we both work with community cats, our first thought was that it might be one we had previously trapped, neutered, and returned. But when we got a closer look, we realized something wasn't right. The cat didn't have an ear tip, which meant he hadn't been through a Trap-Neuter-Return program. He also appeared to be injured. Fortunately, Shannon always seems to be prepared for just about anything. She happened to have a humane trap in her car. We safely trapped the very dirty cat, and after work Shannon transported him to Fresno TNR so he could receive medical care. As we were loading him into the trap, Shannon made a comment that, at the time, sounded like a pretty wild guess. "I bet that cat hitched a ride under someone's car and that's how he ended up in our parking garage." It seemed possible, but whose car had he hitched a ride in? When the veterinarian examined him, we learned he had a broken leg requiring surgery to repair it. We also discovered he had a microchip. Great news, right? Well...not exactly. The microchip company confirmed that the chip had never been registered. There was no owner information. No phone number. No address. No emergency contact. As far as anyone could tell, this injured cat had no family. I wasn't ready to give up. I created flyers and posted them throughout the parking garage, hoping someone might recognize him. A few days later, Shannon was talking with one of our coworkers who initially discovered the cat hiding underneath his car. He glanced at the flyer and suddenly said, "You know what? That looks like my neighbor's cat." A few phone calls later, we had our answer. The owners were found. Here's the incredible part. Our coworker lives in Kingsburg. Every day, he drives Highway 99 into downtown Fresno for work. Somewhere along the way, that cat had climbed underneath his vehicle and unknowingly taken a ride more than 20 miles into the city before ending up in our parking garage. Shannon's "wild guess" turned out to be exactly what had happened. But it also highlighted an important lesson. A Microchip Only Works If It's Registered Many people believe once their pet has been microchipped, they're protected forever. Unfortunately, that's only half the story. A microchip is simply an identification number. When a veterinarian or shelter scans the chip, they receive that number and contact the microchip company. A microchip can only do its job if your current contact information is linked to it. If your phone number or address has changed and was never updated, the chip may lead nowhere. In this case, we were incredibly fortunate. A coworker happened to recognize the cat from a flyer. Without that coincidence, the outcome could have been very different. Why Every Cat Should Be Microchipped Cats are remarkably resourceful and surprisingly adventurous. Even indoor cats can slip through an open door, escape during a move, or become frightened by fireworks or construction noise. Outdoor cats sometimes travel much farther than anyone expects. Unlike a collar, a microchip can't fall off, break, or be removed. It's implanted just beneath the skin and stays with your cat for life. It's one of the simplest and most effective ways to improve the chances of being reunited with a lost pet. You May Already Have One Many shelters and rescue organizations include microchipping as part of their adoption package, so your cat may already have one. If you're not sure, ask your veterinarian to scan your cat at their next visit. If your cat isn't microchipped, it's well worth the investment. The cost is relatively small compared to the peace of mind it provides. If your cat is microchipped, take a few minutes today to confirm the registration is complete, and your phone number, address, and emergency contacts are up to date. Those few minutes could make all the difference if your cat ever ends up miles from home, perhaps after accidentally hitching a ride down Highway 99. Because while every lost cat deserves a happy ending, not every story has a coworker who recognizes a face on a flyer. Sometimes, a registered microchip is the only thing that brings a beloved pet home.

How Fresno TNR helped turn a quarter-million-dollar city commitment into an $825,000 investment in spay and neuter services When Fresno TNR’s Kris Thompson went to Fresno City Hall, she carried the weight of every call for help that could not be answered fast enough. The pregnant cats found behind businesses. The kittens born beneath houses. The exhausted fosters feeding colonies from their own pockets. The volunteers setting traps late at night, transporting cats before sunrise, and constantly search for available surgery appointments. They all represent different stories, but they lead back to the same problem. Fresno has always had more animals in need than its current system can handle, and the only lasting way to slow the crisis is to prevent the next litter before it is born. That was the message Kris and other local animal advocates brought to the Fresno City Council during its 2026 budget hearings. The city’s original budget included just $225,000 in city funding for community spay and neuter services. A separate $125,000 commitment from Fresno County brought the broader proposed sterilization program to $350,000, an amount the city estimated would provide approximately 1,800 surgeries. In a community facing a severe animal overpopulation crisis, it was a start, but nowhere near the level of prevention needed. Prevention Cannot Remain an Afterthought Kris formally urged the City Council to expand spay and neuter funding in Fresno’s 2026-2027 budget. Her message was direct. Spay and neuter is not an optional extra to be funded after all other expenses have been covered. It is one of the most effective tools available for reducing the number of homeless animals entering local shelters. She also made the financial argument that is too often overlooked. Investing in prevention today can reduce the long-term public cost of sheltering, animal control, emergency care, enforcement, and euthanasia tomorrow. Kris endorsed Councilmember Annalisa Perea’s proposal to increase the spay and neuter budget and called on the city to establish a larger, permanent annual funding stream for these services. Her written public comment became part of the city’s official budget record. She was not alone. Kris’ efforts began with creating a website specifically designed to give community members an easy way to make their voices heard. The site provided direct access to the city’s public comment submission process, allowing residents to quickly prepare and submit statements to Fresno City Council members before the budget hearings. Community leaders also spoke publicly in support of increased funding for spay and neuter, including Kyle Kirkland of the Kirkland Foundation and Brandi Sherman, founder and CEO of Fresno TNR. These efforts were reinforced through consistent communication with the more than 22,000 members of the Fresno TNR Facebook group. Together, the website, public outreach, and ongoing communication helped spread the word, encourage participation, and build greater community support. Fresno TNR volunteers, rescuers, colony caretakers, fosters, and concerned residents added their voices. They described cats abandoned in neighborhoods and shelters operating at capacity, volunteers spending their own limited incomes, and rescue organizations trying to manage a citywide problem without citywide resources. One Fresno TNR volunteer told the council that additional funding could help expand sterilization, vaccinations, basic medical care, and other services that reduce shelter intake. Another resident explained that she had spent the equivalent of an entire month of Social Security payments helping a feral colony. These were not abstract budget requests. They were firsthand accounts from people already doing the work. The City Council Responded Councilmember Annalisa Perea introduced a motion to dedicate $1 million to spay and neuter services, contingent upon outside matching funds. Councilmember Mike Karbassi seconded the motion. Councilmember Tyler Maxwell also proposed redirecting savings from an unfilled veterinarian position toward additional surgeries. The discussion finally began to match the size of the problem. During the hearing, Fresno Animal Center Director Alma Torres told councilmembers that even $1 million would not be enough to solve the crisis. Funding matters, but Fresno also faces a shortage of veterinarians and limited surgical capacity. The Animal Center’s veterinarian was performing approximately 20 surgeries per day, or about 80 each week. The statement was sobering, but it underscored the advocates’ message: a crisis of this scale requires a serious and sustained investment. Dogwood Animal Rescue stepped forward with an offer to match a portion of the city’s funding. Dogwood has already invested heavily in reducing animal overpopulation throughout Fresno County and has been an important partner in making affordable surgeries available locally. After negotiations and budget reconciliation, the final package was approved: $225,000 already included in the proposed city budget $180,000 redirected from the unfilled veterinarian position $120,000 in additional city funding $300,000 in matching funds from Dogwood Animal Rescue The total dedicated to spay and neuter services reached $825,000. That is $600,000 more than the city’s original $225,000 allocation. It is nearly four times the amount Fresno initially planned to invest. Mayor Jerry Dyer called it the largest amount the city has ever spent on its spay and neuter program. The Fresno City Council unanimously approved the city’s final $2.56 billion budget on June 23. More Than a Budget Victory This victory belongs to every person who refused to accept animal overpopulation as an unavoidable part of life in Fresno. It belongs to the volunteers who spoke, wrote, shared information, and contacted councilmembers. It belongs to the organizations that offered solutions instead of simply describing the problem. It belongs to the community members who continue caring for animals that technically belong to no one, but whose suffering becomes everyone’s responsibility when nothing is done. Most importantly, it proves that advocacy matters. Kris did not go to City Hall expecting one speech or one public comment to solve Fresno’s animal crisis. She went because silence guarantees that nothing changes. The original funding was not enough. She said so. Other advocates said so. The community kept saying so until the budget line grew from $225,000 to $825,000. The Work Is Not Finished The approval of this funding is a major step, but money in a budget does not sterilize a single animal by itself. The community still needs to know when the funds will become available, how the program will operate, how many surgeries can realistically be completed, and whether nonprofit TNR organizations will have meaningful access to the funding. Fresno must also continue expanding veterinary capacity. More funding will have limited reach without enough veterinarians, surgical appointments, transportation, recovery space, and organizations prepared to connect residents with the services. The goal cannot be one unusually strong budget year. Fresno needs a sustained commitment to prevention. For now, however, this moment deserves recognition. One of our own walked into City Hall carrying the voices of cats who could not speak for themselves. She was joined by a community that refused to look away. The city listened. The budget changed. And because people spoke up, thousands more animals may now have a chance at a better future. The budget line refused to stay small because the people behind it refused to stay quiet.