“Oh my goodness... look at that! How precious. Karl, look!” At first I couldn’t see anything from our studio door but then I saw a movement and there they were — four tiny baby kittens. Then I could hear the tone in her voice. It went from pure emotion and wonder to concern and anxiousness. “It’s cold outside and look Karl, look how skinny they are. That black one, he’s so weak. We must do something.” I knew at that point “something” would be done, I just didn’t know what and for how long.

“Joe. Yes, Joe. That’s what we’ll call him. What do you think?” That’s my wife, Kathy, talking. Before I could even get the door open and the day started, she had already named all four kittens (Joe, Esmerelda, Wilamena and Natalie... don’t know why) and was off to the store for food.

She started feeding them. Daily. (Word of caution here - look up AlleyCat.org if you want to know what you’re in for once you set out that first bowl of food!)

The cats had it made after that. Six months later, we had four healthy cats hanging around, and a few other strays coming by for fun and food. To make a long story short, our landlord eventually noticed the “problem,” found the culprit and instructed us to remove the cats from the area.

Not a particularly fun thing. Or the spay/neuter that needs to happen afterward. But trickiest of all is relocating a stray cat. Obviously, you can’t just drop it off on some street corner, and the likely course of events after leaving four 1-year-old cats at “the pound” wasn’t an option.

So... we decided to relocate them to our house where we could still feed them and make a place for them to get out of the weather. One by one, each was trapped, taken down to the SNAP Clinic and spayed or neutered and, well, renamed. It turns out Wilamena is William, Natalie is Nathan, Esmerelda is Ezo, and little Joe is Jolie, the only female in the group. 0-for-four!

So far so good. One small problem though with the relocation plan. We’re dog people, we have two Miniature Pinschers and a Yorkie. So we can’t just put the cat food out on the back porch, that’s Bonzai’s territory and he’s not too keen on cats. Lexi and Dax vote No Cats too.

That meant the cats needed to be fed alongside the house. I should mention we live near some wooded lots and a gully, so skunks, racoons and armadillos are a common sight.

Now I love the little forest creatures, but I didn’t really want to feed them too, nor should I, right? But I knew if I put the food bowl on the ground, our cat colony would soon be Joe’s WildLife Cafe. Or Jolie’s, rather.

It turns out that if you simply put the food up in a little feed shack a couple of feet off the ground, that’s enough to either prevent most of our forest creatures from getting to it, or at least encourage them into going out somewhere else to eat.

I was at Home Depot about to buy some plywood and lumber to make a feral cat feed shelter and a feeding station when I walked by a chiminea. You know what a chiminea is, right? It’s a simple outdoor fireplace, a piece of large pottery with a hole in the side and a flute on top that is its chimney.

Unless you turn it upside down... Yeah! Attach the top of the chimney to a heavy cast concrete stepping stone and turn it over (think miniature water tower). I bought a saucer for a pot and glued it to cover the hole inside that was the base of the chimney, so now the saucer is the floor, one storey up.

While I was in the mist of that... revelation... I thought, “Hey, why not use container pottery as the cat house while I’m at it?” I could take a big cast concrete pot and turn it over so it’s the sides and roof of the house. Then I just need a door. Or... a pedestal to hold it off the sometimes muddy ground, like the stalk of a mushroom under the upside-down pot.

So three pieces became the house. A pedestal is glued to the bottom surface of a saucer so it looked like a birdbath, um, for short, flightless birds (hey, it’s a work in progress). Then I applied Gorilla Glue to the rim of the saucer, upended the pot and sealed the rim of the pot to the rim of the saucer below. Viola! Now it was no longer a birdbath, but another miniature water tower. I took a “bite” out of one side of the saucer with a saw. That’s the door, or rather, sort of a portal that the cats approach from below, ground level, and hop up into.

Only thing was, now you’re looking down at the top of the cathouse, but it’s really the bottom of the upside down pot, with it’s flat surface and manufacturer markings. Not so pretty.

All it needed was some expert refinement, and, so happens... I’m a designer. Been designing all kinds of stuff my entire professional life. I guess this is part of the reason the whole idea came to me. I get to spend my days turning ordinary things into magic. What this thing needed was some life and some color, so I topped it off with a shallow bowl on top and planted a Boston Fern in it. And there you have it, combine a pet shelter with pottery and an elegant plant and you have synergy -- Cathouse Pottery.

Of course, the dogs rule the roost at our house. A full revolt was in order if they didn’t get equal treatment, and Leifers was born.

And now I’m excited to be sharing this bit of magic with you -- and your Lexi or Bonzai or Dax or Joe or William...

If you’d like to reserve one of these wonderful pet retreats for your family, please zip a note to Kathy at kellis@leifers.com or call us toll free at 1-877-892-1328.

Sincerely, Karl Krieg

p.s. -- Our doghouses are near and dear to my heart. So are my pets and all the great dogs and cats that make our lives more meaningful. This is why a percentage our profits go to the Houston Spay and Neuter Assistance Program (SNAP) that was so accommodating when we rescued the four cats that became my inspiration.