Claws out in Paihia
LAST week was momentous, one that will long be remembered for the Boston Marathon bombing that killed four people and wounded and maimed many more, for the disgraceful displays of some at the London funeral of Baroness Margaret Thatcher, and for New Zealand becoming the (lucky?) 13th state on the planet to legalise gay marriage.
But let's not forget Paihia. It made its contribution with a spat over cats, fuelled by a self-styled army of cat-lovers, most of them in the United States, who rushed to the defence of a small 'colony' of strays that for the best part of a decade have benefited from the loving attention of Betty Chapman and her band of volunteers.
In the leadup to last week's meeting of the Bay of Islands-Whangaroa Community Board the issue seemed to be whether the cats would live or die. Whether euthanasia was ever a potential outcome isn't clear, but the board eventually ruled only that Mrs Chapman and Co could not continue to feed the cats on a council reserve. Apparently there is a law against this. And who are we to question that? It does seem odd, however, that even in a country that is recognised as one of the most over-regulated in the world there should be a rule that prohibits the feeding of cats on council reserves.
Unwittingly, perhaps, or thanks to a collective loss of nerve, the community board has put itself in danger of offending everyone and pleasing no-one, however. Those who have cared for the cats - obviously at significant cost to someone given that they have been spayed and released back into the 'wild' of the Williams House historic reserve, not to mention the cost of their tucker and the time devoted to serving it - are unimpressed. Mrs Chapman has branded the decision heartless, although one imagines that if she moves the moggies' food bowls a metre outside the reserve she will be permitted to continue. It isn't clear whether the law against feeding cats in reserves also bans them from living there; it probably does, but there seems to be no talk yet of anyone making a move to remove them altogether, whether that be by euthanasia or the issuing of trespass notices.
Then there are those who want the cats gone on behalf of the birds they are/might be preying on, or might prey on in the future. Whether these animals are avid hunters, and if they are whether they favour birds, native or otherwise, isn't known, but it would be fair to say that the hysteria that has taken hold over the domestic cat's destructive impact on native birdlife has got a little out of hand. Gareth Morgan, who started it all with a campaign that, not entirely accurately, has come to be regarded as a call to drive the domestic cat to extinction, might have faith in figures that he has transposed from America (X number of cats each kill X number of birds, ergo New Zealand's fantail population is doomed), but that faith is misplaced.
Some cats are hunters, others are not. And in the writer's experience, many of those that are favour rodents over birds. That can hardly be used as an argument in support of leaving Paihia's cat colony in peace, but it would be worth suggesting that if the cats are a real or potential threat to birds, they will be even more so if they are hungry.
Granted, a cat does not have to be hungry to hunt, but they are more likely to do so if their lives depend on it. Thus, declaring that the Paihia cats may no longer be fed on the Williams House reserve would not seem to represent much of a victory for conservationists.
Meanwhile, whoever it was who pointed out that destroying the colony wouldn't solve anything made one of the more rational contributions to the debate. The colony exists, without doubt, thanks to people who have dumped cats in that area. Destroying those that are there now will only provide temporary relief (for those who want them gone) unless the dumping stops.
So who has been placated by last week's decision? No-one. The cat carers are offended, the conservationists have made no progress whatsoever, and cat-lovers in America will remain convinced that the community board, or as most seem to have got it into their heads the Far North District Council, get their kicks from killing cats.
Mayor Wayne Brown has not taken kindly to the fury that has been unleashed on him. Born on Facebook, the campaign is clearly directed at him in the belief that he has the power of life and death over the Paihia 10. Not surprisingly, he has taken offence, and, as is his wont, he has fired a couple of broadsides back at those who have berated him for his lack of humanity, and even threatened an international boycott of New Zealand as a tourist destination.
Therein lies an opportunity to be exploited. If enough Americans really are fretting over the fate of these cats they should all be trooping down here aboard cruise ships so they can hop off in the Bay of Islands and see these cats first-hand, before council exterminators armed with kalashnikovs move in. Mr Brown has every right to be a bit grumpy though. Despite all the platitudes that have been spouted over the years the Far North's community boards remain toothless, to coin a phrase, but the fate of stray cats that are occupying a council reserve is one decision this board can make.
Perhaps a flow chart explaining the devolution of authority from the Mayor and council down should be posted on this Facebook page so the defenders of the cats know who to abuse. And abuse there has been. It is extraordinary that the members of a Far North community board should need to discuss this issue with the public excluded because of the fear that public knowledge as to who voted how might render some of them liable to physical or emotional harm.
The council is downplaying that a little, saying the employee who attended the meeting was a council officer as opposed to 'security', but the fact remains that the board members were clearly nervous and wanted some sort of physical protection available in the event of trouble.
Word also has it that the police were advised that the meeting was taking place, presumably in the expectation that they would respond more quickly, if they were needed.
Board members, meanwhile, are now reportedly looking forward to devoting themselves to more mundane issues, so mundane that most people probably don't have a clue what they are. It seems that these elected servants of their community have not enjoyed their moment in the international spotlight, and who can blame them? It is unlikely that any would have seen themselves as signing up for such a controversial role when they chose to seek election.
Problem is, the cat colony hasn't gone away, physically or politically. Sooner or later the board - it's hard to see the council volunteering - is going to have to bite the bullet and decide that the cats can stay or must go. Shifting their feeding station will achieve nothing, and any calm that might have descended since last week's meeting won't last. Unless, of course, everyone gets bored and moves on to something else, which isn't entirely out of the question.