Meet The Kwantlen Agricultural Department’s Feline Guardians

Langley Campus is totally cool for cats

The head honcho, Bruce. (Monica Mah / The Runner)

As it turns out, having a bunch of food in one place is a great way to get mice. The agriculture department at Kwantlen’s Langley campus knows this better than anyone, so in an attempt to rectify their rodent problem, they began adopting cats to patrol the area. Lori Karr, a member of the educational support for Langley, speaks about the cats, their personalities, and how they came to be kings of their own tiny jungle.

“They’re not technically lap cats, they’re farm cats,” says Karr, referring to how well the felines have taken to roaming the approximately 13 acres the campus has to offer. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t friendly around people, and they love to be involved with the goings-on around the greenhouse.

Head honcho of the Langley cluster (one of several accepted collective nouns for cats) is Bruce, the oldest at 13. That’s pretty old in cat years. According to Karr he left his home due to competition with other animals, but fit right in at the Langley campus, where people tend to leave him to his business. He spent a year settling in as the first campus cat, getting a feel for the territory, before being joined by brothers Carlos and Chiko, dubbed the “Okanagan Boys.”

Every now and then the cats get off campus and go missing for a couple days. They typically end up in the old folk’s home across the street, whose residents tend to pamper the cats a while before giving the school a call. “Carlos goes every day for a ride on the golf cart,” explains Karr. “They don’t like to ride in cars but they do like to ride on the fork lifts and machines.”

The cats are provided this level of freedom on campus partially because they need it to hunt properly, but also because of the brothers’ special maintenance requirements. Chiko will only drink distilled water, and has an upset stomach every once in awhile. As Karr puts it, “If I ate mice, I would have a sensitive stomach too.” The other brother isn’t too great on his own either. When Carlos gets nervous there’s no amount of potty training that can stop him, which is why there’s little desire amongst the department to keep the cats inside.

On the other hand, “Bruce is pretty laid back,” says Karr. “He’s [old] and he doesn’t really care. When we have the harvesting sale he comes out, looks around, and goes back to the office. For a ‘fat’ cat he goes pretty fast.”

It isn’t all fun and games with the cats, though. Not too long ago, the two brothers disappeared for longer than normal and didn’t turn up at the usual spots. People were worried about a coyote attack, or a possible cat-napping, but it seems the two were merely prowling for adventure, as they turned up after a few more days of waiting. The staff were understandably scared for the cats, as they’ve spent so long with the department the felines have all but achieved their own faculty positions. In Karr’s words, “Bruce to me is the number one staff. They all know that about me.”

Ultimately, no one’s surprised the cats came back, since “these are spoiled cats,” says Karr. “They own the place. They go to the vet, they’ve got all their shots, they get good food and fresh water every day, they have catnip growing outside, and they get toys and treats. Who wouldn’t want to live here?”

Another difficult period was when Carlos had a bad leg injury and was out for a couple weeks. The staff put in extra time with him to help speed the recovery process, feeding him antibiotics and helping with the rehab. Soon he was back on his feet and out hunting again with the other two.

There’s also the less glamourous side of the hunt, since the cats will bring back bodies as “prizes” for the staff and students. Usually they’re proud of what they’ve done, and, “You have to reinforce they did a good job,” says Karr. “Obviously you don’t want to watch it, but they are hard workers.”

Sounds like these cats could teach Kwantlen students a thing or two.