Hi I'm Evita, and I know what I want. 
Evita
Female · Adult (about 3 years) · Tabby
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favourite thing: cuddles and wandering in a patch of green to sunbathe.
Health checklist
- Microchipped
- Vaccinated
- Spayed / neutered
- Dewormed
- Tested & health-checked
Evita's story
I was first spotted by some cat ladies in a village. Never seen before by the river banks where a cat colony was living, and being quite ok around humans I was removed from there. The catladies then look for a foster home. And that is how I met my hooman. I was neutered and adopted at the same time. Back then we were only 5 cats and I was ok with the elders. Since then we have moved quite a few times and I have grown a taste for being alone in my lengthy walks. It helps me destress from being with all others. See, with age comes those times you just do not wan to share space. I can get stressed by the young crew even if they actually never really bug me. But I am now growing older and I just want peace.
This hooman thinks maybe I could have a home for myself? It is not really a decision of hers. She loves me enough to understand where my best interest lies and, therefore is willing to let fate decide. Should someone with no other cats, show interest in me, she will let me go. It means, she'll care for me for ever but knows I might be better of in a house by myself. Now going outside presents many dangers and I am allowed out only to release some steam and because I go to the green, deep inside fields where no cars, no other animals go. I can easily be spotted from the window and every might I return home.
This is March 2022 and as temperatures rise I will become a night owl. This is when it is trickier for the hooman. She would really love to find a safe place for me.
on camera
Watch Evita
Read the story
His Majesty has scratched the sofa. Again. Some people's answer is declawing. So let's be clear about what that actually means.
Declawing is not a nail trim. A cat's claw grows from the last bone of each toe. So declawing means amputating that bone. On every toe.
Imagine losing each finger at the last knuckle. For scratching a sofa.
And it can hurt for life. Studies found declawed cats were more likely to have back pain, to bite, and to stop using the litter box.
In Spain, it's banned. The animal welfare law forbids mutilations, except for real medical reasons. Many other European countries ban it too.
Here's the thing: scratching isn't bad behaviour. It's how cats stretch, keep their claws healthy, and leave their mark.
So give His Majesty something better than the sofa: a tall, sturdy scratching post. Put it next to the sofa, near where he sleeps, and by the door. Add a little catnip, and praise him when he uses it.
Trim the very tips of the claws every few weeks, and cover the sofa, just while he learns.
The sofa survives. The claws stay. Everybody wins. Except the scratching post. It never stood a chance.
Read the story
A day at Mumcat. Thirty cats. One human. Starting at 8 a.m.
Every morning begins with a tour of the house, a good morning in a very silly voice, and a quick inventory of what was knocked over in the night.
Breakfast is served in shifts. An inhaler for Malu. Eye drops for Bagheera. Thyroid medicine for Nera, hidden in a generous helping of Churu. Some cats eat together. Some cats eat together with no one, ever. And Evita has, of course, already come to ask.
Then: the dishes, the beds, the big sandbox, and a little purring time. While the cats nap, she hunts online for bulk deals. Thirty cats get through a lot of sand.
Afternoons belong to the vet, usually twice a week, two cats at a time. Or to the shopping: sand, kibble, cans and special diets. Or to the laundry: quilts, cushions, blankets… all freshly washed for the nap spots.
At seven, the bag is filled, and she heads out to the street colony. A few cats sit with her. A few have to be called. Dishes are filled in two or three places.
Then, home for the last meal of the day. It is always very much appreciated. You can tell by the hissing.
At one in the morning: the last pills for Nera, the last drops for Bagheera, and a final check that every dish has a little kibble. Then, finally, someone else gets to sleep.
That was a real day at Mumcat. Tomorrow, she does it all again.
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