Plight of Wild Cats Has Neighbors Howling

Wild cats in Meadows trailer park in Chantilly (Giuliana Nakashima - The Washington Post)

Since the 1970s, the Meadows has been a refuge for middle-class residents, particularly as the region's stock of reasonably priced housing has dwindled. It is one of eight trailer parks in Fairfax and one of the biggest, with 500 homes.

Mobile home parks tend to be transient places, but residents say the Meadows is a close-knit neighborhood. The streets are named after airlines (Pan Am Avenue, United Drive). There are monthly potluck dinners, and children ride skateboards and run free in the evenings.

Since 2002, Sikes and other volunteers have worked to control the park's cat population with the Bethesda-based group Alley Cat Allies. The agency advocates controlling feral cat colonies by trapping, spaying or neutering and vaccinating the animals, then releasing them back to their prowling grounds.

Betsy Robinson, the group's president, said that it has spent more than $8,000 on the Meadows cats, spaying and neutering 226 and removing 129 kittens for adoption. Few litters have appeared since, Robinson said.

Feral cat advocates have long said that simply removing cats from a colony won't help, because other wild animals that have not been treated would take their place.

But in recent years, the efforts of the cat caretakers have not dovetailed with the vision of newer residents, who have rejected suggestions that they protect their homes with commercial animal repellents or corn cobs soaked in vinegar.

Equity LifeStyle Properties has tried in recent months to pretty up the place, adding white picket fencing and wrought-iron signs. The Meadows also offers cottage-style manufactured houses. (A sign advertises "Homes from $80,000.")

"These older folks who have lived here for years are caring for these cats," Sikes said. "The new people aren't happy. It's not the old-timers; it's the new people who are complaining."

One recent night at the Meadows, cats slithered through the twilight, promenaded up the street two by two, visited their favorite food bowls and draped themselves on porches. One calico, looking unrepentant, lounged on Allison's front steps.

Also around were Grace, Black Cat and Scruffy. Resident Loretta Smith, 65, is especially fond of the grayish-brown Scruffy. "He just has a sense about him," she said. "I can't believe it myself. If I'm really sad or lonely, he'll come up and meow on my porch. He's almost like a person. . . . I'd hate to have anything happen to him."

Scott Jillson, 27, a county employee and Meadows resident, said that when he walks his miniature Doberman, Daisy, in the early evenings, he sees his neighbors setting out food bowls. When they whistle, five or six cats slink out of the shadows almost immediately.

Something needs to change, he said, but he's not sure what.

"I love pets; I don't want them to get killed," Jillson said. "But at the same time . . . it's gotten out of control."