Second Gotcha Day

Of course we are joining The Cat On My Head for Sunday Selfies. The highlight today is on Two-y, my newest, and yet not new, family member.

Today is the first anniversary of Two-y’s second gotcha day! Last year at this time he broke my heart standing out in the frigid cold shivering and alternating holding up one paw at a time. I just had to bring him inside. But let’s go back a few years so I can tell you how it all started.

I may have told this story before so I apologize if you’ve heard it but here goes: Two-y showed up one day with three other cats. Two were obviously female because they were a calico and a tortoiseshell. The other two had male characteristics but were black and white tuxies. I could tell right away they were feral because they were extremely wary of me but also very hungry.

I started feeding them on my front porch. As a group they were my third colony. After a couple of weeks, with winter winding down, I decided I should take responsibility for them and get them all neutered. I began the TNR procedures.

I caught them all in a matter of a few days. The females were both full-term in their pregnancies so I set up two very large cages for them to deliver in. They settled in and within a week of each other delivered nine kittens between them. I took the males in to have them neutered and vaccinated. The cat, who would be Two-y, was labeled as Stray number two. After an overnight recovery in my home I released them but continued to feed them regularly.

Stray number one disappeared after a time but Two-y stuck around. There were times when he didn’t show up for food and that always worried me but he eventually returned. Finally, after 11 years, Two-y began to warm up to me. It started when he would touch his nose to my finger before I fed him. Then I started holding my hand over him without him running away. Soon I was able to pet him but I still had the feeling that he wouldn’t appreciate any more.

Then came the frigid temperatures we had last year and I just couldn’t take it anymore. He came up one day shivering violently and constantly picking up one foot after another. That had to be the day. I brought a carrier out and set it beside him with the door open. He didn’t budge so I went ahead and stroked his fur. He still didn’t budge. Something told me that it would be okay to scoot him in so I did it. I put my hand beneath him and moved him gently into the carrier and shut the door.

So once again I set up one of the cages and placed the carrier inside it. He’d already been through enough so I just removed the top of the carrier and placed a towel in the bottom. He eventually moved onto the towel and made himself at home.

We went through my routine for introducing new cats into my family. I took him in for vaccinations, FeLV/FIV testing and fecal check (for intestinal worms) then kept him isolated in the cage for 60 days. Before releasing him into the household I rechecked him for worms and FeLV/FIV. He was clear of both and I moved him into another cage in the living room. Only one of my other cats complained about him but after 60 days of smelling him the rest of them didn’t even seem to notice him.

He spent some time in that cage before I opened the door and he made his way out in his own time. We’re still working out the feeding location and Gooseberry is still not happy but otherwise Two-y is part of the family. Every day he takes another step toward being a normal domestic cat.

Bad experiences

As some of you noticed in last week’s comments, Mulberry Spot has relapsed. Two days after finishing his antibiotic he broke with diarrhea again. So we restarted his antibiotic and will keep him on it for another two weeks.

  Jabberwoky Glitter and Mulberry Spot

I’m writing this while watching Iowa State University Cyclone football. Now, I love cats and I like Cyclone football (only Cyclone football) but I don’t believe the two should be combined. I watched in horror, the video from some football game this week, where a feral cat got trapped inside the coliseum and kept running and running and running, trying to escape. All I could think was, that poor cat. Once he got free of that nightmare and all the adrenaline was gone he had to be exhausted. Cats weren’t meant to run long distances.

Have you ever seen a cat in such a harrowing situation? Have you ever seen your cats just totally exhausted from some experience?

Mewdy Blue and Cyclone colors

One year, I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, my beloved Mewdy Blue escaped my house at night and was gone for almost 24 hours. When he finally showed up again he came inside and collapsed. He must have slept for another 24 hours. He was usually one of those unflappable cats but I guess being outside alone was just too much for him.

I’m a big proponent of keeping cats indoors but in both of these examples the cat is outside due to some unfortunate circumstance. We are joining The Cat on my Head for today's Sunday Selfie.

A Recap of the Week Gone By

Wow, did I ever miss the boat(s)! Because of the weather I thought I should point out the winter hazards that are on the horizon. But I forgot two other happenings: National Veterinary Technician Week and World Cat Day (didn’t that used to be Feral Cats Day?).

Just because National Veterinary Technician Week is over that doesn’t mean you can’t go ahead and thank your local veterinary technician. Sure, veterinarians perform the surgeries but whom do you think preps the animals for surgery? And the veterinarian must diagnose diseases and be the one to prescribe medications for your pet but a veterinary technician will actually dispense those medications. Veterinary technicians will run lab work so the veterinarian can make that diagnosis. In smaller clinics you might even find veterinary technicians helping to clean the kennels, bathe animals and answer phone calls. No matter what role they play in the clinic/hospital you take your pet to, don’t they deserve a simple thank-you?

Two-y before he came inside

World Cat Day is important to me because I am devoted to my cats and because all of my present cats are “retired” ferals or the offspring of ferals. Without my work with feral colonies I wouldn’t have my present family! And I’m proud to say that last year I took in the last feral cat from the last colony I’ve worked with. His name is Two-y and he is slowly learning how to be a domestic cat. Just this weekend he came out of his cubbyhole to try to join the other cats at mealtime. They aren’t yet ready for this though so he had to go back to his cubbyhole to eat. I’m proud to say that yesterday I was able to clip his claws without having someone else to hold him.

I’m happy today because we may have found the cause of Mulberry Spot’s illness. First we had to diagnose his food sensitivity (probably an allergy) by going through diet after diet until finally he is stable on Royal Canin’s Ultamino diet. That helped to stop his vomiting and he stopped pulling out his fur. I have to be extremely careful not to leave any food out where he can get into them. He eats his meal in a carrier and doesn’t get to come out until after I’ve picked up all the other bowls and utensils.

Mulberry Spot at the Cat-n-Around Cat Club show

He continued to have diarrhea though and he continued to lose weight and muscle mass. Finally this week we submitted a fecal swab for a culture and sensitivity. It appears, tentatively, that the culprit is E. coli haemalytic. So I started Spotty on the appropriate antibiotic today and am praying that will be the solution.

Mulberry Spot is my last show cat. I continued showing him until he started to get sick. He is now retired from the show circuit, and enjoys his cuddle time.

Strawberry: "Can I get back to my nap now?"

We are joining The Cat on my Head again this week for Sunday Selfies. By popular request I helped Strawberry with his selfie. I interrupted his nap, however, and he wasn’t particularly pleased. I’ve also included a photo of a part of my feline family curled up together in a very warm lump. Enjoy!

Spot, Strawberry, Glitter, Gooseberry, B.W.

July - A Hard Month

July is a hard month. After waiting months for summer to take hold we are suddenly bombarded with 90 degree temps and high humidity. Some days it is hard just to breath. But then we are rewarded with weeks like the one forecasted next week: clear skies and highs in the 70s!

Thai, my mom's Siamese, and Gabbie

Life is like that. Just last week I was struck by the irony of July 8^th. It is a day for celebrating Gabbie’s entrance into my life in 1977 just one day after the day that was supposed to be the end of the world (7-7-77). She was, at most, 3 weeks old and a spitfire of feline fur. She quickly became my best friend, closer to me than any human could ever be.

Effie

But July 8, 2008 brought an end to my physical life with Effie after 16 years. I’d spent nearly 12 years trying to convince her that domestication was way better than her feral life. When she finally agreed to give it a try we had only 4 years left together for a close friendship. I was so lucky that she had already given me her best with her babies, Mewdy Blue and his siblings.

 

Pixel in 1998

Today is the anniversary of the day in 2000 when Pixel’s pancreatic cancer invaded her brain and I had to let her go. Pixel came into my life as an adult in the feral colony but didn’t stay feral long. I’d trapped her for spaying but afterward, when I opened the carrier to change her bedding and add food and water she purred and rubbed against my hand. She’d taken almost no time at all to choose domestication. I’ve a much longer story about her life but for now just know that she was a special girl.

Only picture of all 6 of Tiggy's babies

In 1980 the clinic I worked for took in the stray animals from local animal control and many of them ended up on my family’s acreage. We all thought that Tiggy was already spayed because we’d felt what seemed to be a spay scar on her abdomen. Only a few weeks after she “appeared” on the acreage I realized how wrong we’d been. On July 12 she delivered 6 unusual kittens. Lando Calrissian and Yoda developed normally to robust longhaired cats. Pirate, Figaro and Zeit Geist, however, suffered from muscular dystrophy. (Princess disappeared at only 2 weeks of age).

Tiggy's babies all grown-up

My sister adopted Pirate and Figaro died early from Panleukopenia (he was vaccinated). Yoda had been the runt of the litter but with my TLC he became the largest of them all. Unfortunately Yoda disappeared only a week before I moved into to my first apartment. Lando and Zeit both experienced mast cell tumors and yet they both lived to old age. Zeit even had a urethrostomy at one point but lived to 16. Lando was my longest-lived cat, to date, finally succumbing to his mast cell tumors at age 19.

Pirate

Figaro

Zeit Geist & Yoda

Lando Calrissian

Then there’s July 13^th.  What else can I say except that Sunday will be the one-year anniversary of the day Mewdy Blue left me. How does one cope with such a traumatic, dramatic loss? I remember a line from the Lord of the Ring movies spoken by Frodo, “Some hurts go too deep.”

Effie and baby Mewdy Blue

Baby Mewdy Blue

Lady Butterfly

Almost 20 years ago I lost Gabrielle’s Galaxy, my best friend Gabbie. Two years later my precious baby boy Misha Baryshnikat joined her. The reason I bring this up now is because the other day I found myself calling their names as I looked for Lady Butterfly. I’m not sure if it is a case of a “maternal” mixing of names or if, just perhaps, those two are now hanging around Lady as she struggles with the late stages of kidney failure.

Misha Baryshnikat

I sometimes feel as if my life is in a downward spiral. Year after year I lose this cat then that cat and each loss is worse than the previous one. True, I’ve had good things happen too but it’s hard to see those things when loved ones are dying.

Lady in 2009 mid-rollover

Lady has been a tough little girl but she’s really having a hard time of it this week. I started treating her with Sucralfate to battle the high levels of phosphorus in her system, Lactated Ringers solution supplemented with potassium because her potassium is low and Azodyl to eat up all those toxins her kidneys can’t deal with. She’s been eating the Iams kidney diet as long as I mix it with water so she can lap it up but now she’s not so happy with that. This week I am giving her anything she will eat and that usually changes every day. (this morning she seemed to be happy with Purina’s kidney diet, tonight she's eating Iams Recovery Formula, what next?)

2011

I’m just afraid that she may not make it to the end of this year. That would mean three cats this year. Then only Sky Voice is left to represent my first feral colony even though he was born in my house. But I’m trying not to look at it that way. No, for now Lady is fighting and I am helping.

It’s just that feeling I got when I called out Gabbie and Misha’s names. Are they really here? Are they trying to call to Lady? I don’t want her to go with them, not yet.

UPDATE:  It doesn't look like Lady is going to make her 19th birthday. I've been carrying her around the house today and tonight she is restless. Right now she's hiding from me. Not a good sign for cat who's usually so cuddly. This is not going to be a good night.

The Final "Question"

I was staid, going through the motions, handling business and I thought I was going to be just fine. The plan was to pick up the supplies, pay my bill and then ask for them and leave. I thought I was doing fine…….until she handed me his ashes with that sympathetic expression. I felt the tears well in my eyes and I headed for the door. By the time I was sitting in my car I was full-out crying.

Question died on February 26^th. The snow was just beginning when I carried him out to the car and started toward Dr. Tammy’s clinic normally a half hour drive. That snow was coming down hard, though and the roads were progressively worse as I headed north. I believe it took me 45 minutes but I was in such a bad way that I don’t really know.

Unfortunately, Dr. Tammy was already in surgery and couldn’t leave but both of her associates were able to help me through my decision. My sweet Cutey-Q was dying before my eyes and we couldn’t do anything for him except end his suffering. He trusted me, he always had and all I could do was help him to die. I felt so helpless. He was so brave.

Q during one of his few cat show appearances

Out of all my cats during these last several years Q was the only one who ever stayed visible when someone visited. He had to be in the middle of things, to know everything that ever went on in his home. He tried to help the furnace guy check out the furnace and instructed the plumber on how to fix the plugged drain. When someone came to the door, he was right there to greet them while the other cats scrambled over each other to escape upstairs.

The vacuum cleaner didn’t bother him, nor did the dog. Out of all of my cats, Q was the only one who consistently came running when I called his name. He was an indoor only cat and never once acted like he was interested in going outside, at least not until that last week of his life. Suddenly, when the weather turned cold one day he tried to follow the dog outside. I decided to go ahead and see where he would go figuring he would simply turn around and come back in when he realized how cold it was. Instead he kept walking, right down the sidewalk toward the gate!

Question and his brother Sky Voice

I brought him back inside then and for the next few days I had to pick him up and hold him whenever I let the dog out. The night before our snowy journey he stayed close by me but didn’t want to be held. I stayed up with him most of the night worried that he wasn’t acting well at all. He’d been ill but I really hoped he would pull through.

Then, early in the morning he jumped up on my bed, though I don’t know how. He never moved again. I had to carry him downstairs because he couldn’t stand anymore. That’s when I called the clinic and told them I was coming.

Ironically just a short time ago I thought I was losing my precious Mewdy Blue. But he recovered, miraculously, and Q got sick. Part of my grieving included the feeling that fate was paying me back for praying for Mewdy Blue’s recovery by taking Cutey-Q. Another part of me feels guilty for ever taking my cats anywhere possibly exposing them to who knows what. Perhaps I should have kept them in a bubble where they’d never be exposed to the toxins and pathogens present everywhere in our world. But what kind of life would that be?

The mind and heart plays these games with our psyche shooting our emotions out of the realm of reality as we come to grips with a loss such as this. Someone must be blamed. We’re sure it is all our fault, or maybe it’s someone else’s fault or he’s not really gone, or maybe, just maybe I can bring him back (I’ve actually had a dream where we’ve euthanized one of my cats accidentally and I was able to counteract the euthanasia solution to bring him back).

Question

So today I look at the cats before me and realize that I no longer have any blue and white cats. All but two of Effie’s family are now gone. Besides Lady Butterfly (18), Effie’s sons, Mewdy Blue and Sky Voice (16), are the only ties left to the first colony of feral cats I ever worked with. The only ties left to so many spirits. Perhaps it is appropriate that they are both blue.

Kittens delivered

In honor of Adopt-A-Cat month I thought I should finally finish the kittens’ story. It isn’t the end though as you will see. If you need to catch up on the rest of the story see these links: first, second, third, fourth and fifth.

The Charmed Ones

The day came when I had to deliver the Charmed Ones to their new home but first I spent some extra time with that litter, all together for the last time. I couldn’t help but cry even though I knew it would work out for the best. Those kittens had nothing but love waiting for them. Finally I had to gather up the girls and load them into a carrier.

last time the 3 red tabbies were together

                                                                        

Taylor, now Phoebe

Tinkerbell and Trinket, now Page & Piper

We took the trip into town and I delivered them to the professor and her son. Already they had a corner of a room all set up for the kittens. The resident cat watched from high atop some shelves as I released the kittens. I could see the disgust in her face. I waited and watched as the girls investigated their new surroundings then quietly slipped away. I didn’t want anyone to see the tears welling in my eyes.

Tortie, now Gaia

When Tortie, now named Gaia, was 12 weeks old I delivered her to the couple’s apartment. As I explained to them about introducing new cats and the importance of a period of isolation Freya pounced. I held Gaia in my hands but instantly Freya took it upon herself to give the kitten a welcoming bath. Freya’s front paws enveloped Gaia and the two cats became instant buddies. I’d never seen an introduction like that before. I was sad to lose yet another energetic soul but I didn’t cry this time. Instead I laughed. Those two cats belonged together.

Then it came to Scotty. I’d only spoken to his appointed new owner a couple of times but I was sure she still planned to adopt him. She waited patiently for my word that he was ready to go. When I called and told her it was time she invited me to her place right away. This was about the time when Effie died and I had somehow attached my broken heart to that snuggly little kitten. Each time I looked into his eyes I knew that he was one of “those” cats, the special ones, the ones who stayed with me. Scotty and I bonded tightly.

Scotty

I tried desperately to bargain with the young woman, offering her one of the red tabbies. Then I surprised even myself when I offered her one of the black and white kittens. She had shown an interest in them early on until I told her I’d planned to keep them. Scotty’s new mom stuck to her guns. Scotty was the one for her so I relented. Another loss to face so soon.

That afternoon I collapsed on the floor of the kittens’ room and sobbed. Scotty scooted up to cuddle under my chin. I squeezed him hard hoping to keep the memory of him as close to my heart as possible.

I closely inspected the apartment where Scotty would move and could find nothing wrong with the situation. She had one other cat, an older blue cat that was used to having a companion. Her roommate had just moved out taking her pet with her so Scotty was going to fill that void.

Scotty/Toby

Inside the small room where Scotty would spend his isolation period she had arranged an amazing array of toys, climbing boxes, food and water bowls and a bed. What a playground for my baby! I let him out of the carrier and he immediately set to investigating his surroundings. Enthralled with the new environment he looked up to me just once as if to say he’d be all right and started playing. Scotty’s new person gave me a whole sack full of fresh catnip she’d gotten from her parents’ home and I left knowing Scotty would be fine.

Later she told me that she’d spent that first night on the floor of Scotty’s room just to be sure he was all right. Yes, they’d bonded. I knew then that Scotty truly was a special cat.

I kept in touch with all the new owners and continued to get nothing but great reports and wonderful pictures of my “kids.” However, at one point Scotty’s person fell off the radar for a time. I searched and searched but couldn’t find her. She’d left the university rather suddenly and no longer lived at that apartment. I grew panicky wondering about my baby and what had become of him and I worried about his person. I hoped she was okay.

Finally the internet led me to her parents in another state. I learned that she’d had a terrible experience and moved back home for a short time but Scotty was helping her cope. He adapted to the family dog easily and remained a rock for the young woman. Now she’s gone back to school to get a law degree and I believe loves Scotty as much as I still do. I think of him nearly every day but I know he in the right place, with the right person.

He has a new name, Toby, but when she and I talk of him we still refer to him as Scotty/Toby. I just can’t help it.

So I found homes for five of the nine kittens but then I had to stop. I couldn’t take any more losses. The two red tabbies, Trucker and Tweety, became Gooseberry and Strawberry and started the process of crawling into my heart. I had planned to get the mothers spayed and vaccinated and then turn them back out with the males but after such a long time in the house, I just didn’t feel right about it. They had become housecats, even if I couldn’t touch them, they were my housecats. To this day they remain wary of any attention I pay them but Sparks and Tourmalina are home.

I may feel sad sometimes when I miss those kittens but I am so happy that I found such great homes for them. I trust their new owners and know that they are all loved and well-cared for. It is a happy ending to that part of their life story.

Twygal - Oct 1, 1994 to April 27, 2012

Fred (Toe) - Fall 1995 to Oct 2011

Rainbow - April 7, 1994 to April 15, 2012

Kittens finding homes

Now comes the hard part: the part where losses tear at my heart.

Effie before kittens

If you need to catch up to this story you may read my previous posts here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

All they needed was socialization with other people. That soon came in the form of potential adopters coming to see their favorite babies. First came the retired professor to see Tinkerbell. I had been sending her pictures for several weeks so she’d grown quite enamored with all of the girls. I let her see the room where the kittens lived then I moved them out to the living room where she could interact with them away from the worried mothers.

One of the few pictures I have of Tinkerbell

The most difficult part for me came when she begged to be able to take her kitten home right away. I explained that I wouldn’t let them go until they were properly socialized and had received at least one vaccination. She was just so eager to have her new baby at home. I told her that I might be willing to bring the kitten to her when she was 10 weeks old although I would prefer to wait until 12 weeks. She seemed reluctantly satisfied.

Very rare Trinket picture

I watched as she nearly melted holding and calming the tiny red girl. Her son had fallen in love with Taylor though. After her visit she told me that they wanted both girls. I promised myself that, except for Spotty and B.W., all of the other kittens had to go to other homes – no matter how hard it was. So I had to be happy that another kitten found a home. Before long, the professor contacted me again to say that they’d decided they wanted all three of the younger females! She and her son decided that Taylor, Tinkerbell and Trinket made a great “Charmed” set. Their names became Phoebe, Paige and Piper.

The three Charmed Ones

Tortie’s new family came to meet her one sunny afternoon. They already had one cat, Freya, but wanted a companion for her. The young man wanted a tortoiseshell so I was thrilled when I saw the skittish girl curl up in his lap and calm right down. I didn’t want to intrude on their time with Tortie so I took the opportunity to bring out Spotty and B.W.  I spent the time working with them around the visitors in hopes it would help to socialize them.

Tortie

I could tell that Tortie had found a perfect home. She’d never warmed up to me, a devoted, lifelong cat lover, yet there she was sitting quite comfortably in a stranger’s lap. She belonged to this couple, even before they’d met. All it took was a picture and they knew it – now she knew it too.

During this time I also had to make sure my own family of cats got enough attention. Effie, my 16-year old ex-feral cat was ailing from diabetes. We never could get her completely regulated then she slowly stopped eating. My big mistake was in giving her her insulin before feeding her. You should always feed first then give the appropriate insulin so that they don’t go into insulin shock if they don’t eat. Well, that one horrible day Effie came in to eat with the rest of the cats so I went ahead and gave her the insulin then put out their food.

My last moments with Effie

No matter what I did Effie would not eat and she went downhill very quickly. She was already weak from her recent lack of interest in food but now that she hadn’t eaten anything at all the insulin was plaguing her body. I rushed her into Dr. Tammy but I was afraid it was too late. They did all they could for her during that day but in the end I brought her home in a last ditch effort to calm her down and hopefully bring her around. Unfortunately it didn’t work. She had regular seizures all night long. I sat with her through the night attempting to calm her seizures but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. She was too far gone. First thing that morning I had to let her go.

I spent much of the rest of the day in the kitten room watching them gambol about but I think they knew something was wrong. They worked off their energy for a bit then, as I curled up on the floor they all came over to lie with me. It was a precious moment filled with tears.

How could you not love this face?

Even more special was the fact that Scotty cuddled up to me as close as he could possibly be. He burrowed into my arms and purred and purred. I knew he was a special kitten from the first time I took him from his cage but I already had a home for him. At that moment I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

When his person came over to see him for the first time in person I tried convincing her to take one of the remaining red tabby boys instead. She didn’t want a red tabby, she wanted Scotty. I remembered that at first she had mentioned how cute the black and white boys were so I then offered to give up B.W. if she would leave Scotty with me. Still she wanted Scotty, even more so after holding him.

Scotty kisses

I kept my promise to give away any kitten that had a home and let her have Scotty. But I spent those last couple of weeks absolutely spoiling him. I really loved that kitten but I could tell that she did too. After all I still had four more kittens, two more than I’d planned to keep.

Tweety and Trucker, the leftovers

I could have done more to find homes for the red tabbies. I could have pushed more people at work to look at them, I could have advertised. But after losing Effie and giving up Scotty I just didn’t have the will to lose any more. The four kittens soon became Mulberry Spot, B.W. Huckleberry, Gooseberry (Trucker) and Strawberry (Tweet).

Next time I’ll tell you how the adoptions went. I tell you now, though, that all of those kittens went to exactly the right homes. They are where they were meant to be.