I have lived on West Pine Street for more than 21 years. I'm 83 years old. About five years ago, a family of feral cats were born on my landlord's property next door and a man living there had started feeding and sheltering them. The landlord had him get them in a cage and took them to be spayed and neutered. After that man moved out, I began feeding those cats and kept an old dog cage on my porch to give them shelter from the weather.
I recently spent a week in Albany Medical Center because I had a minor stroke that affected one eye. One week after returning home, imagine my surprise, not to say shock, to find on my porch a cardboard box with a pad inside, obviously meant as a bed, and a plastic box with a hole cut in the side, definitely meant as a litter box, as it contained already used litter (well used, in fact). Also, there was a food dish, a cat brush with hair in it, a hair covered mat, and, most importantly, several prescription cat medications. I was so furious at this imposition of being left to deal with all this unwanted stuff, it's a wonder I didn't have a second stroke.
These are feral cats and do not recognize a litter box. They do not even allow me to pet them, much less brush them or medicate them.
But what really made me furious was the fact no one had the decency to even knock on my door and ask if I could use or wanted any of it.