Woman’s Life Is Cats’ Meow--Multiplied to Feline Fortissimo

WASHINGTON — It’s 1:30 a.m., and both alarm clocks in Kristin Kierig’s bedroom are ringing. As she eases out from under her warm, furry blanket, 114 pairs of sleepy eyes blink in the darkness.

Kierig won’t be leaving for her job for eight hours, but the 46-year-old Navy program analyst has risen early--as she does every day--to tend to her large family.

“Hi, precious, my baby boy,” she purrs. “Good morning, Jessica.”

Over the last eight years, Kierig has shared her Fairfax County, Va., townhouse with 238 homeless cats--as many as 171 at one time. She gave away a few dozen last summer and is now down to 114.

“I care about anything or anybody who needs help,” said Kierig, who once stopped to help a possum struck by a car and then gave it a proper burial. “I’ve been that way all my life, even when I was a little kid. I cannot, and I will not, leave anything that’s suffering.”

Caring for so many cats has evolved into a second full-time job for Kierig, who says she has spent more than $45,000 on food, kitty litter and vet bills. She no longer takes vacations or listens to the radio or television, because the noise bothers some of the cats. She keeps paws off her plate by eating most of her meals in the bathroom.

Although she acknowledges that some people might find her devotion extreme, Kierig, who is divorced and has no children, says she derives immense satisfaction from helping abandoned or abused cats. There is no legal limit on the number of cats allowed in a private residence in Fairfax, and animal wardens, health department officials and veterinarians who have inspected her Annandale townhouse have found clean conditions.

As her alarm clocks ring this recent morning, Kierig patiently peels back the layer of cats that covers her like a blanket. An adoring crowd already is forming outside her bedroom door.

Kierig goes to bed by 9 p.m. every night and begins each day at 1:30 a.m., cleaning all 106 litter boxes and sweeping every floor. She tries to have everything tidy by 5:30 a.m., leaving enough time to feed her cats and lavish them with attention before going to work.

In just one week, Kierig--who does not receive or ask for donations--goes through twelve 25-pound bags of kitty litter, six 18-pound bags of cat chow and two 20-pound bags of treats she calls “special nubbins.”

Kierig’s townhouse is a blur of fur. A dozen cats are sacked out on the sofa, snuggling close to one another like pull-apart cinnamon buns. Others are stalking shadows, performing high jumps and taking turns riding on Kierig’s shoulders. Only Holmes and Mr. Bert are outside cats.

All but five of her brood have been neutered and spayed, and there are few cat fights. All have had their rabies shots.

Kierig has tried to catproof her home. Her furniture is hidden under blue tarp and duct tape, and the table lamps, which kept getting knocked over, are gone. A bungee cord on the dishwasher keeps prying paws at bay.

Despite four hours of daily cleaning, a strong cat odor permeates the townhouse, although Kierig no longer notices it. But a neighbor did last summer, when Kierig’s air conditioner broke down and she opened the windows.

Lynn Reid, a deputy animal warden with the county’s Animal Control Department, showed up unannounced on Kierig’s doorstep to investigate.

“I was shocked at the number of animals she had,” said Reid, who found 171 cats inside. “But I could see she was taking care of the animals. I was surprised to see the clean litter pans, the clean water and food bowls. She caters to those cats. Those cats are her life.”

Although Kierig visits three veterinarians almost weekly and has established a cat infirmary in her basement, Reid also suggested that she have Cristina Hattier-Neblett--a vet who makes house calls--conduct regular inspections.

Hattier-Neblett, who has been to the house four times since June, also was taken aback when she heard how many cats Kierig had. But she kept an open mind before her first visit.

“It’s a wonderful thing she’s done,” Hattier-Neblett says. “She has given her life to it. She has medical records on everybody. She has done it right.”