Paroled, But Not Pardoned

On April 21st, Luca got kicked out of the house. She bit Camille for the second time, and although she’d never done any real damage, I didn’t want to take a risk. So I tossed her onto our sunporch and there she has lived ever since.
She was pretty pitiful at first, not eating much (a BIG deal for this fat kitty), spending the whole time curled in her bed. But eventually she appeared to adjust somewhat. I think she liked the big windows. She still scratched at the panes of glass in our French door and sometimes and I’d feel a pang of guilt each time she meowed as we walked by, but she seemed okay. Not thrilled, but okay.
I worried about her being too hot during the summer, but the sun porch has a ceiling fan and is covered in shade, so she tolerated it. But now fall has arrived, and the last few days have brought chillier temperatures. It will likely dip into the 30s tomorrow, and although our winters are milder than some, we still see temps in the teens from time-to-time.
And I just can’t do that to her. She’s the type of cat who practically lives on top of the heater vents all winter long. She can’t stand the cold.
So I’ve been wrestling with my options, none of them palatable. At her last vet visit, I asked our veterinarian what to do. She said we could leave her on the sun porch, let her loose in the neighborhood and risk her getting mauled by another animal since she doesn’t have claws, or put her down. She also gave us the name and number of an animal behaviorist, and I feel terrible saying it, but that seems like a waste of money in this case. Luca bit me the first day I met her, and she’s been a biter for all of her 11 years. I don’t think a little therapy is going to cure her at this point.
So what to do? If I leave her outside, I’m a bad pet owner because she’ll freeze. She’ll look through the window like this:
…and she’ll shiver and my heart will break.
But if I let her in I’m being a bad mother because I’m exposing my child to the risk of a biting cat. And I’ve thought about it, I’ve really thought about it, but I don’t know how I can put her down. I know one day I may have to if she ever really goes after Camille. But right now, I’m having a hard time imagining taking her to the vet and deciding her life is over.
The best plan I can come up with for now is somewhat of a compromise. I’ve moved all her things into the laundry room, which isn’t heated but isn’t nearly as cold as the sun porch. On weekends and evenings when Camille is up and about, Luca will stay locked away. But during the work day and after Camille goes to bed, she can come out into the house.
We’ll see how long this plan lasts – but it’s the best I’ve got for now. She’s pardoned, but definitely not paroled. She’s walking on very thin ice.