There is a subject that often causes confusion among people who love animals: why do breeders rehome adult queens and males after the end of their breeding careers?
To someone who has kept one or two beloved pets at home all their life, this can genuinely look strange. A cat lived in the cattery for several years, had kittens and was part of the family — and then it is sent to another home. An unpleasant thought quickly follows: while the animal produced kittens it was needed, but once it stopped, the breeder simply got rid of it. The kittens were sold, the money was received, and the adult cat was no longer wanted.
I have encountered this attitude many times and understand why it arises. If you look at a cattery as an ordinary home with pets, the decision is genuinely difficult to understand.
But a cattery works differently. That does not mean a breeder loves their animals any less.
I live in an ordinary two-bedroom flat. I cannot physically keep every queen and male that has ever taken part in breeding. If I begin doing that, within a few years I shall have to choose between living with the veterans and ending my breeding work, or continuing to work with the breed. There is simply not enough room for everyone at once.
For that reason, I almost always look for a new home for an animal after its breeding career ends.
This is where the most important part begins. To me, it is not the end of my responsibility for the cat. It is the search for the next stage of its life.
A cattery is a particular environment. There are always several animals, the group changes, kittens arrive, and there are relationships of their own, as well as competition for attention and territory. Once her breeding life is over, not every neutered adult cat genuinely needs that particular rhythm.
Sometimes she is much better suited to a quiet family where she will be the only cat, or one of two or three, where she will have her own person and her own sofa, less competition and much more individual attention.
That is why I do not believe that keeping an animal with me at any cost is automatically the kindest and most correct thing to do.
Sometimes true care lies precisely in being able to let go.
There is another side, however. The new home must genuinely suit that particular cat. The mere fact of placing her does not guarantee anything.
I have only one adult neutered queen who remained with me permanently: Jasmine.
Her coat is rather difficult and she has particular grooming needs. I tried placing her with another family and explained in detail what should and should not be done. My recommendations were not followed.
They began washing and combing her almost immediately. She found this extremely stressful. Jasmine became frightened, defended herself and tried, let us say, to explain her opinion of the situation rather convincingly to her new owners.
In the end, she came home and stayed with me.
That experience showed me one simple thing very clearly: even if an adult cat might generally thrive in a family, a particular home may not suit her.
The task then is not to say, ‘Well, I have already rehomed her, so it is no longer my problem.’ If it is clear that the animal is unhappy, the decision must be reconsidered.
There is another story: Nancy’s.
Nancy left the cattery as an adult after her breeding history with me had ended. Her case shows particularly well what ‘finding a new home’ means to me.
Nancy had one small everyday peculiarity: discharge could gather in the corners of her eyes, so her face needed cleaning a little more often than those of other cats. At home with me, this was dealt with in the ordinary way, using a cotton pad and lotion. Her eyes were not inflamed or painful and there were no serious problems with them. That was simply how she was: some cats need their faces wiped less often, others more often.
After the move, her new owner began looking more closely at various small details and worrying about things I had not previously considered significant. There were questions, doubts and discussions with vets.
What matters to me in this story is not who was right about every individual point.
Something else matters: Nancy did not cease to be ‘mine’ at the moment when her breeding career ended and she left for a new home.
I continued to answer questions, look at photographs, discuss what was happening and work out where there was a real problem and where it was a matter of grooming or simply adult feline life.
Placing an animal is not a moment after which the breeder mentally closes the door.
Nancy’s story is not over yet. We are once again looking for a suitable home for her.
That too is part of responsibility.
Sometimes the first choice is not final. Sometimes a person and a cat simply do not suit one another. Sometimes expectations of an adult animal do not match reality. The task is not to preserve the situation at any cost simply because a decision was once made.
The task is to look again for an option that will be better for the cat.
I believe that the future of an adult breeding cat after the end of its breeding career is just as much a part of a breeder’s work as selecting a mating, raising kittens or choosing future owners.
A cat does not come to an end when its participation in breeding ends.
It may have many years of life ahead. Those years should be normal, peaceful and comfortable.
Sometimes the best decision is to keep the animal in the cattery, as happened with Jasmine.
Sometimes it is to find a new home.
Sometimes it is to recognise that the first new home was unsuccessful and look for another.
There is no universal rule for me.
There is only one criterion: where will this particular cat be better off living next?
That is why I dislike the simple outside view of this situation. It is too easy to see only the bare fact: the cat lived with the breeder and was then given away.
Much more may lie behind that decision: the physical limits of the cattery, the need to move forward in breeding work, the temperament of the particular animal, its relationships with other cats, its age and habits, and how much individual attention it truly needs.
Sometimes caring for an animal does not look like ‘keeping it with you for ever’.
Sometimes care means understanding that it now needs a different rhythm of life, less competition, more individual attention, its own person and its own sofa.
And then it means not disappearing from the story, but remaining present for as long and as fully as is genuinely needed.
That is what a breeder’s responsibility after the end of an animal’s breeding career means to me.
