The War Within: Crazy Cat Lady or Feline Savior?

I live in one of those neighborhoods.  The planned subdivisions with an HOA, a rule book thicker than the fiction on my bed side table, neighbors so nosy they look in your windows or hurry over when they see you, but the worst of it is they have a Facebook page.

The high school drama that goes on between separate groups of people astounds me.  There is what's referred to as The Party Street, we live on The Bible Belt (because we don't socialize and party with the rest of the neighborhood), there is also Those Smaller Houses, The Back Loop, and All Caps Guy.

He gets his own name because he always types in ALL CAPS, ALL THE TIME.

At home we call him Angry Guy.

So now that you have the back story:  Angry Guy has been complaining about a cat.  ALL THE TIME.

"GET YOUR ORANGE CAT OFF MY FENCE!"
"YOUR ORANGE CAT EATS MY BIRDS!"
"I'M CALLING THE SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT!"
"DEAL WITH THE HOA AND POLICE DEPARTMENT, CONTROL YOUR CAT!"
"THAT %#&*$@ ORANGE CAT WAS ON MY FENCE AGAIN!"

So, my neighbors and I here in The Bible Belt (which is ironic because we never go to church) laugh about him every day, he's hysterically insane.  He has been complaining about the same cat for months.

But a couple of days ago, said cat wandered to my yard.  I walked to it and it jumped into my arms.  My husband looks at me and says, "How is it that guy sets traps, calls the cops, calls animal control, and can't catch this cat?"

Of course, I have this way with cats to begin with, you'd have to see it to believe it, but my husband believes it's either because I'm a witch or I was a cat in a former life.

Well, the temps were going below freezing that night and this poor kitty was a little thin, smelled of sawdust so I knew it had been sleeping in the new construction homes. I brought it into the garage and set up a bed, fed it, and gave it a litter box.  Then I looked up those Facebook posts...

Three months, no one's claimed it, it's been wandering from house to house and covering a different street every week.  Always begging to come indoors, begging for attention, begging for help.  I have two cats and a dog, a bleeding heart, and a family that understands this.

I called the local rescue group I know and made arrangements for a foster home.  The lady I know well from this group is really sick and asked if I could be the one to bring it to the vet so it can be tested for deadly diseases, and either put down or given shots before the foster can pick it up.  I agreed.  Sure.  Moved the cat into the guest room (quarantined from my own pets).  It was warmer  there and she was grateful.

Yes, I said she.  A long-haired orange female kitty.  At the vet, every single worker had to come look for themselves, because it's very uncommon.  We named her Murphy.

We've never had a girl in the house besides myself.  I have four boys.  All the pets we've had over the many years have been boys.  The fish is a boy.  It's just been weird that way and now here is this precious little girl in our house, she's about a year old, three of those months on the street.

I announced on the Facebook page what I'd done, taking it in and arranging foster care for adoption, and suddenly I'm the neighborhood savior.  Everyone is applauding me for doing something any of them could have done at any time over the past several months.  I've just never seen here before now.

After taking her to the vet and being cleared of Feline Aids and Leukemia, I felt so relieved because I didn't realize how much we liked her sweet nature.

Now the problem is my family adores her.  She is sweet tempered, loving, and we have a weakness for the less fortunate in the four-legged variety.  

The bigger problem is she is terrified of our other pets and growls/hisses at them and do I want to go through the introductions of a new family member all over again?  It's Christmas, she needs a family, we can provide, and after actually reading all of the posts about her, I feel sorry for her.  She's eaten more than my other pets combined, needs love like every animal deserves, and I admit, I'm kind of fond of her myself.

My biggest worry is would three cats officially make me a Crazy Cat Lady?

**UPDATE**  Murphy's real name was Kirby.  Her owners were out of town when the pet sitter apparently let her get away and didn't bother to get her back.  There is another orange cat in our neighborhood that is a stray, lighter in color, that I have yet to see.  So I got her back to her mommies and all is well.  Happy Endings!!