There is a room at the city pound you'll probably never see. It's the size of a large bedroom, smells a little like pee, and is lined with clean metal cat cages.
This is the cat holding room where cats come before they are put up for adoption -- or more likely, the deadly alternative.
Last year, roughly one of every two cats that arrived at the Anchorage Animal Care and Control Center was killed because it was wild, unwanted or its owners never came to claim it.
Over the first six months of this year, the shelter killed three times as many cats as dogs -- part of a growing trend in Anchorage where people frequently rescue or adopt dogs while a growing number of cats die at the pound.
"It really hit us, for whatever reason, this summer ... every day there would be eight, nine cats there on the euthanasia list," said Maria Martin, spokeswoman for Animal Control.
Cat lovers say there's hope for reversing the trend, and it hinges on reducing this snowballing population of hard-luck cats.
Beginning as early as this month, a mobile clinic will begin touring Anchorage, offering free or low-cost spay and neuter surgeries in the neighborhoods around town.
The Alaska Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals hasn't been able to use the mobile clinic -- picture an RV with a vet's office inside -- for more than two years because of a lack of funding, said spokeswoman Toni Diedrich. But earlier this month, the Anchorage Assembly approved a request to spend $7,500 from a little-known city fund to pay for surgeries that can otherwise cost more than $100.
The money comes from nearly a decade of small donations to Animal Care and Control and will pay for about 14 days' worth of surgeries, which will be spread throughout the year and throughout the city, Diedrich said.
The idea is that fewer unwanted cats in Anchorage will mean fewer cats that have to be killed at the pound.
"How many jobs are there where you have to destroy what you love?" Diedrich said of Animal Control. "They're good folks trying to do the best they can. They're just responding to the problem that the community's handing them."
As she gave a short tour of the center recently, Martin said having to kill so many cats is bad for morale.
When a visitor passed near the cage of one gray-and-black cat, the cat bumped his head against the wire, rubbing his neck against the smooth metal. A sign on his cage told his story: "No pets allowed in new apartment."
A short walk from the holding room is the Animal Control center's cattery, where people can look at animals available for adoption. Animal Control leaves several of the cages empty so the cats aren't cramped too close together, where they might share disease.
Sneezing can be a death sentence for a cat. The pound can't take chances with contagious diseases.
A paper hangs next to each cage, identifying most of the cats by name: Yoda, Midnight, Odetta.
Some are strays and others abandoned. Volunteers bring them swaths of carpet to scratch and hang shower rings, a popular toy, on their cage doors.
"Our big guys -- this one's over 11 pounds -- we try to put in the bigger cages. Give them a little room to flop around," Martin said, pointing out a tall, gray female named Daytona.
Where cats are concerned, Anchorage isn't the only cold-hearted city in the U.S. Across the country, cats are less likely to be adopted then dogs, according to Animal Control. People are also less likely to go find their cats.
In June, 16 percent of cats that ended up at the pound here were claimed by their owners, compared with 57 percent of dogs.
Rescue groups say they try to save as many animals as they can, but there are limits.
"All of our rooms are filled with cats" said Cindy Liggett, co-founder of Kitty and K-9 Connection.
She said cats breed faster than dogs, and cat owners let their pets roam, meaning they may not realize their cat is at the shelter until after it's already dead.
"Cats are viewed as second-class citizens," she said.
In the lobby of the Animal Control building during a recent visit, a girl and her mother held a gangly kitten, the girl arguing they needed another pet. In the nearby cattery, Daytona had crawled halfway beneath a paisley pillow inside her cage. Next to her sat Midnight, a long-haired black male.
Midnight's paperwork says he has a burn mark on his back, possibly from hiding under cars. When the door to the cattery opened he hissed.
Or sneezed.
Find Kyle Hopkins' political blog online at adn.com/alaskapolitics or call him at 257-4334.
A SOLUTION: Want to get your cat spayed or neutered? Call the Alaska SPCA at 562-2999 for more information.
