So I set the trap again around a little before sundown, baiting it with some steamed cod I got yesterday from my favorite Chinese restaurant. I cut a piece of cardboard to line part of the floor so The Kitten wouldn't have to walk on grating when she ventured inside to get the cod. And then I covered most of the trap with a towel and left it there on the back porch where I usually feed The Kitten and many other critters.
I ran down every twenty minutes or so to check on the trap, as I've been doing since I started this hunt last Saturday. This evening, The Kitten was wandering around, occasionally sniffing the outside of the trap, just as she's been doing all week. Occasionally, another neighborhood cat — including the one I caught last night and the one I caught a few days ago — were hovering nearby and I chased them off. Around 7:45 when I checked, that was the situation. A little after eight, I went down and found The Kitten inside the trap…and very unhappy about it.
Actually, "unhappy" doesn't begin to describe it. Screaming. Yelling. Clawing at the cage walls. Struggling to reach through and claw me or anything nearby. Very upset.
I've moved the trap and its new inhabitant into the garage for the night. The expert tells me to keep her in the dark and not to worry too much about feeding her. Apparently, they can't perform the surgery if she's eaten in the last 12 or so hours.
I did not feel joyous about my "catch." Well, I guess I'm relieved that after a week of this, this part is over…but The Kitten is so miserable in that trap — and I can imagine the agony of riding in the car tomorrow, to say nothing of being in the vet's office. I tell myself it's for the better and that it had to be done, and I absolutely believe that. It just doesn't feel like that right now.