Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

A FELINE'S FRIEND: The Cat's Meow

Bobbi Klocker doesn't fight crime or frolic in a revealing outfit, but she's still an amazing catwoman

In downtown Las Vegas, Bobbi Klocker greets a cat she had previously trapped, taken for medical treatment including neutering, and returned to its previous haunt. Klocker, who keeps 80 rescued cats in a home in Pahrump, has been caring for homeless cats for about 20 years. Photo by ISAAC BREKKEN/REVIEW-JOURNAL One of Klocker's charges peeks through a cement-block wall as Klocker makes her rounds in downtown Las Vegas. Photo by ISAAC BREKKEN/REVIEW-JOURNAL Bobbi Klocker carries cat-rescue cages during a rescue foray in downtown Las Vegas. Photo by ISAAC BREKKEN/REVIEW-JOURNAL

"Catwoman" Halle Berry has the catsuit, but Bobbi Klocker has the cats.

How many cats? Lots of cats. More cats than you'd probably guess.

More than 80, as it turns out.

Which brings to mind, doesn't it, all of those stories about reclusive old women living in New York tenements with dozens of cats as their only connection to anything living?

Before you get the wrong idea about Klocker, know that she has a responsible day job (plus a part-time job), is personable and spends a lot of time outdoors -- with both people and cats. She has a grown son, Mike Beezley -- who's allergic to cats -- and a granddaughter, Brooke, 4.

"There are a lot of crazy old cat ladies out there," Klocker, 66, said with a resigned sigh. "I hope I'm one of the productive ones."

Then again, there's the fact that Klocker built a house for her cats.

The house is in Pahrump, where the majority of her cats live (and where there are several of a different type of cathouse, but that's another story). Tenants help care for the cats while Klocker spends most weekdays in her Las Vegas home, which isn't exactly catless, either, thanks to the couple of elderly felines who live there.

Weekends in Pahrump, though, she lives with those 80 cats in a 1,350-square-foot house with a nice roomy screened porch and a pet door so the cats can move freely back and forth. The porch has benches and scratching posts. Klocker has -- well, not a lot of space.

"I have one little corner of that house for my own use," she said. And two dogs -- a border collie named Trixie and a shepherd-husky mix called Mr. T -- who, as luck would have it, are exceptionally tolerant of cats.

Living with so many cats requires a few concessions.

"As far as knickknacks, I don't have them out," she said. "I vacuum a lot. I have two shop-vacs." She learned long ago that carpeting isn't a great idea.

She uses 16 litter boxes, changed about every other day with the help of her tenants.

Klocker built the Pahrump house because residents of the Las Vegas Valley are limited to three cats per household --12 if they have a cat fancier's permit. Out in the wide open spaces, things are different.

"There's a lot of people who move to Pahrump for that same reason," Klocker said -- and those would include a friend who moved there from the Catskills, lock, stock, barrel and 30 cats.

Which pales in comparison to Klocker's 80. But it's not like she planned to live with 80 cats.

"I never thought I'd have that many," she said. Another sigh. And a smile.

Klocker has always been an animal lover, it seems. Her family moved to a farm near Gettysburg, Pa., when she was 5, and animals were all around her.

"I was always bringing home strays," she said. As for the farm creatures, "I could not stand it when it was time for the animals to be butchered."

But why cats?

"There's so many of them out there that need help. The general public has no idea," she said. "I think that's why it's such a passion with me. You'll see only one dog to maybe 80, 90 cats" on the street.

Klocker dedicates about every spare minute to the cause of cats both in the Las Vegas Valley and in Pahrump. Sometimes that means rescuing feral cats for adoption, after they've been spayed or neutered. Sometimes that means bringing nonadoptable cats to her own refuge in Pahrump, after they've been spayed or neutered. Sometimes it means picking up feral cats, having them spayed or neutered, and returning them to the site where they were found.

"They're good mousers," she said.

She gets referrals from local groups and 15 to 20 calls for help on her personal cellphone each week, she said.

Which can be a bit of a problem, considering her record with the wireless gadgets.

"She's a cellphone-user's nightmare," said friend Lee Nelson, volunteer coordinator for the FLOCK cat shelter in Sloan. "She's always either losing them or dropping them in water, bending over, helping the cats. The other day she actually ran over one in her car."

And it isn't just her phones that are in peril. Klocker has been mugged on a feeding run and encountered other scary creatures -- of the human species -- while aiding cats downtown, although she said a homeless man tends to watch over and protect her.

"She's very dedicated, is what she is," Nelson said. "She takes care of cats in the dark alleys of the city. They know the sound of her truck, I think. When she pulls up, they come out of the nooks and crannies.

"If there's a cat problem, she can sense what cats are doing. She takes in a lot of problem cats and helps people with them, because she can understand cat talk."

Nelson said Klocker also answers emergency calls to rescue cats in buildings that are about to be demolished.

Always Klocker spreads the gospel of spaying and neutering, which may seem like a losing battle. Unaltered cats, she said, can have three litters a year.

"If people would spay and neuter, we wouldn't have to do this," Klocker said. "There's a lot of irresponsible pet owners."

Klocker's dedication is such that she's featured in a new documentary film, "Born to Die."

She participates in local animal organizations' spay-neuter programs and gets discounts from some veterinarians, but cat expenses still cost her about $700 per month, plus vet bills, which vary. That explains the part-time job.

Klocker works with other like-minded volunteers, but said more are needed.

"There are people who care about these animals, but they're few and far between," she said.

It's doubtful Klocker would ever give up on cats. She knows the need is great, but so are her dreams. She's thinking of adding on to her Pahrump home to house more cats. Her goal for the community is to have a co-op spay-neuter clinic, possibly funded by grants.

Her personal goal? To set up a nonprofit sanctuary in Pahrump, "for the care of my animals in case something should happen to me."

And there's another thing.

"It's kind of silly," Klocker said, "but I want to have a log cabin, with a couple of extra rooms for guests and volunteers" to help out at the sanctuary on working vacations. "It would probably be the world's largest scratching post."

Klocker sighs again.

"What I need," she said, "is to find a sugar daddy."