What exactly is a Cat Rancher?

And do they all have big mouths? To answer the first question, cat ranchers are people who farm cats and ship them off to China. Is no one buying this story? There's probably some sort of customs restriction on that practice, so my next (and more truthful) answer is, a group of well-meaning individuals who are not allergic to cat dander, and whose hearts are too soft to send cats to the SPCA where they will be gassed to death.

It all starts innocently enough with one or two stray cats showing up for a snack. Or, perhaps they point out your laziness to your neighbors by tearing through plastic trash bags that have been left right outside your back door when you should have put on shoes and safely stowed the garbage in its rightful (and cat-proof lidded) container.

Either way, they need food, and you feed them. Then their friends show up. And the friends mingle together and provide you with litters of more friends. This is probably how some Cat Ranches come into being.

Ours was born out of the lazy-trash example above, but was halted (or so we thought) in its tracks by a quick trip to the spay and neuter clinic where the first three feline trash-eaters were de-sexed. They were a family of three: one mother with her two kittens.

Then another cat showed up. We thought this was the irresponsible cat sperm donor, but "he" turned out to have very large nipples. At first it was reasonable to assume that his trash scavenging habits had led him to a home where they don't eat organic meats and cheeses, and he was benefiting from an intake of female growth hormones meant to make cows produce more milk. This was a more reasonable assumption than my husband's take on it: he looks up to Pamela Anderson, and had a little "work" done?

The mystery was solved when I followed our new beggar to our hose container at the side of the house, and found Mr. Monsanto nursing two kittens. One quick check confirmed our "Mr" to be a Mrs., and there was good reason for her voluptuous mammary glands.

Now gripped by pity (these kitties were VERY little) because winter was approaching, and remorse for questioning Mama's femininity, we trapped the three Hose cats, and put them in our garage.

We're still not a Ranch at this point.

The next day, my observant mate saw three even smaller kittens hobbling along the front of our home with no parental unit anywhere to be found. They were then put in the kitty nursery (our guest bathroom) where they were all bathed and treated to a kitten food mash.

Thank Heavens for Craigslist. Some kind cat person adopted two of the littlest kittens. This left us with three outdoor cats, and four indoor. The Ranch officially opened for business a few weeks later when BIG Papa showed up, along with Blondie (a cat whom I am guessing is now pregnant, thanks to Big Papa). They're outside, and only come around here and there looking for leftovers from the daily buffet we put out for the three outdoor cats. But, with Blondie's pregnancy (which I don't have the heart to terminate) we'll be over 10 cats for our property, and that's officially a Ranch.

For those of you who think this is all terribly irresponsible of us, no worries, come Spring they'll all be getting snipped...so no cat hanky panky will be going down on the Ranch. But we are thinking of taking out a loan for all the cat food. Perhaps we'll get famous like the Duggars, and we'll receive donations from cat lovers around the country.

What does Cat Ranching have to do with my Big Mouth?

Not much, I suppose. Though I do have the big heart needed to deal with a multitude of shedding, pooping, barfing, scratching, counter-jumping, self-absorbed, (but utterly lovable) felines, I doubt that always accompanies a big mouth. Nope. I'm sure of it. Rosie O'Donnell comes to mind...